


Vindictam de Tenebris Angelus

by mmorgan317



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: M/M, Nick Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 17:43:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3332063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmorgan317/pseuds/mmorgan317
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Reapers kidnap Nick, secrets are revealed and truths are learned. But will things between Nick and Renard be the same or will changes take place for the worse? Nick whump and slight Renard whump..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Taunts and Torture

**Author's Note:**

> First of all I’d like to thank ThorneofAcre (or ToA to some) for being my sounding board and my willing beta. This fic wouldn’t make half as much sense without her. 
> 
> Second: I borrowed the idea of Renard being a Regnant and what his creature form looked like from the fic, “This Isn’t All That You Are” by Macx. If you haven’t read it, you should; it’s fantastic! 
> 
> Third: The title is (translated by Google Translate) “The Vengeance of the Dark Angel”.. just fyi.

**Part I – Taunts and Torture**

“It appears you did not take our warning seriously,” the voice with the French accent cooed warningly. “The Grimm is still walking about freely.”

 

Captain Sean Renard slowly blew out a heavy sigh through his nose, allowing his body to relax ever so slightly and his temper to abate. He had lost count how many times he had told these people that “the Grimm”, as they insisted on calling him, wasn’t a threat to either them or any of the Wesen of Portland. That he was under Sean’s protection both as his mate and as a Grimm. The Reapers were apparently determined to have Nick dead, however, so no matter what he said, the words always fell on deaf ears.

 

“I have told you,” Sean said, feeling the tension renew in his shoulders the longer he spoke, “the Grimm is under my protection. He isn’t a danger to neither you nor those in my territory.”

 

The voice on the other line scoffed nasally, something the French were very good at. “Do not think me a fool,” it answered, the notes dropping an octave so as to further the threat within it. “He is a Grimm; a descendent of Marie Kessler. Therefore he is a menace and always will be.”

 

Sean couldn’t deny that Marie Kessler had been a threat; she had often killed without thought or remorse and had never cared who the creature truly was. All she had always seen was something other than her kind and determined that it needed to die.

 

But Nick wasn’t like that. He looked deeper than most normal people often did and he tried to ascertain, without any shred of doubt that the Wesen was beyond help before he pulled the trigger. Even so, every life he took, out of necessity or not, shook the detective to his core each time. If it was possible, Nick was too kind for his own good!

 

“He is not like his aunt,” the Captain defended tiredly. There wasn’t a point to his saying anything; the Reapers would still say that Nick needed to be killed or controlled but still he continued to try and reason with them. “And he is mine.”

 

The air in the office sparked with unseen electricity at Sean’s words and he knew the Reaper on the phone had understood what he meant. The claim of a regnant wasn’t to be taken lightly and the fact of the matter was that Sean, a regnant and King, had claimed Nick long ago.

 

Beneath Nick’s collar bone, just below where his neck meets his shoulders, was the proof. Sean had hated making the claim so physical for it had caused his mate quite a bit of pain; but it needed to be done so that other Wesen would know exactly _who_ Nick belonged to. Not that Nick hadn’t made a mark of his own, mind you, but his mark was the never-leaving smell of the Grimm. It never registered with a human therefore no one at the precinct knew but every creature Sean had come across could smell it and a good many of them backed down with that alone; the rest that didn’t, soon did when they realized who Sean was. There were, of course, the few who thought they could challenge Renard but they soon paid for their mistake with their life.

 

While Nick had qualms about killing in cold blood, Sean had no such reservations. To him, every challenge was to be answered, thus making the kill not in cold blood but rational. The regnant in him howled and slashed its claws in fury; it saw the threat against Nick as a challenge from the Reapers and it was perfectly ready to answer it.

 

“That may be,” the voice granted in a way that chilled Sean’s heart. He didn’t know if the Reapers was responding to the first or second portion of his sentence but he didn’t think he was going to like where this was heading. “At any rate it does not matter. I have arranged to have a private meeting with the Grimm.” Green eyes flickered to burnt orange, heated by the fire of possession and rage at those words. Before he could so much as utter a syllable the voice continued, “He is on his way to me as we speak so I will be seeing him very shortly. I’ll send him your regards.”

 

And with that the line went dead, leaving Sean to glare so hard at the glass walls of his office that one could swear they were melting from the pure heat in his eyes. Yep, he didn’t like where that had gone one bit, and the Reaper would pay!

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

When Nick woke up, he immediately wished he hadn’t. His head hurt so badly he actually groaned in response. His body half obeyed his commands and his eyes shut shortly after opening. He knew from the headache alone that he wasn’t at home; sure he often had headaches after a tough case but they were never this bad. This one felt like a migraine on steroids. Cautiously he opened his eyes again, slowly this time, allowing his vision to adjust in the darkness. He was actually thankful that it was so dark because he had a feeling that any light at all would bring sharp daggers of agony slicing through his head.

 

They had caught him off guard at home, waiting until he was upstairs before they’d appeared. Several of them had jumped out of the shadows, attacking as one. Nick barely had time to get one shot off, catching one of his many attackers in the shoulder, before they’d pounced and overtook him completely. He’d fallen down the stairs as their weight slammed into him. The second his body hit the floor, Nick had known no more.

 

_Kidnapped._ The word ran through his mind like a mouse on a wheel. He couldn’t believe he’d been so oblivious to their presence. Had he really gotten that comfortable in his standing as a Grimm? Does he really count on his reputation to ward off intruders that much?

 

The questions and frustration caused his headache to flare even more and it wasn’t until he tried to bring a hand to his aching head that he noticed his dismal circumstances.

 

Both of his hands were tied above him, his wrists secured together by metal cuffs and chains as thick as his arms. Nick wriggled a little, testing to see just how tightly he was bound but the cuffs never gave and he only managed to rub the joints raw. His torso was bare, leaving him to shiver freely as the cold air around him breezed against his flesh. Several bruises marred his chest and stomach but none were as prominent as the ones over his left side.

 

_That’s funny,_ he thought curiously as he stared down at the angry purples, blacks and greens, _it doesn’t hurt._ He curled a little into himself to try and see more of the bruising but he stopped instantly as fire raced through his injured side.

_Does it hurt now?_ A voice that sounded so much like Monroe’s chimed in his head. _You probably have a concussion, you idiot._

_Yeah, I got that,_ Nick answered with a small huff.

 

_Then you should know that they disorient the brain including pain responses._ The ‘duh’ in Monroe’s “voice” was clear and Nick rolled his eyes, silently telling the voice to shut up then continued his examination.

 

His legs, he was almost gleeful to find, weren’t shackled and secured like his arms and wrists were; they hung freely, dragging down the rest of his body. It hurt beyond belief. The pressure it put on Nick’s shoulders was tremendous, not to mention the way it strained is injured torso. How did the people in the fourteenth century handle this?

 

Settling in for a lot of pain, Nick tried to stretch his torso a little bit more. He hoped that he could get some sort of advantage over his captors; all he needed was to be able to touch the ground. No such luck. Amazingly he was well above ground level and the pain in his side came close to being unbearable the more he tried.

 

_Figures,_ he mentally pouted. He hung his head back and gasped when said head came into contact with the cold, stone wall behind him. _Gotta remember not to do that again._

 

Pain pulsed through his body, synching itself with his heartbeat as though they were one and the same. For the most part it was so widely felt that he was pretty sure that he was just being a wuss. Then his mind got bored and decided to focus on the parts that were especially crying out.

 

His head of course was the most prominent. Tying for second were his wrists, shoulders and side. The weight of his body pulling down on them all caused them to whine with pain; that whining was beginning to turn into a wail and it was getting harder to ignore. Other than those already known about, the only other part of him that was hurting over the rest was his right ankle. It wasn’t as bad as his head, thank God, but it was enough to let him know that he’d more than likely sprained the joint.

 

_Well, that’s going to make it harder to escape,_ he thought glibly.

 

_Harder but not impossible,_ the Grimm inside him reminded sternly.

The room he was housed in was perhaps a little bigger than his living room. It was made completely of stone – handsome stone actually – with what appeared to be pantry goods in one far corner. The tall ceiling of the room no doubt proved useful when it came to storing things since it allowed for all the heat to rise to the top, leaving the cool air to surround everything on the floor. Directly across from him was the door; it was made of strong dark wood which effectively blocked out all sound and light. To the right of the door was a lever of some sort, probably to his chains, and nothing more.

 

Nick looked to his left to see if he could see anything that would help him in his eventual escape and froze for a moment in fear and horror. Along the wall were dozens of medieval instruments used for torture. Most of them were still covered in blood.

 

_Well that’s a bit unsanitary,_ Monroe’s voice chided in his head.

 

Again, Nick rolled his eyes at the voice. _Are you kidding me?_ He responded exasperatedly. _A wall full of torture weapons and all you’re worried about is how sanitary it is?_

_Well excuse me for being worried about your health,_ Monroe’s voice pouted.

 

_At the moment I think I’m more worried about what they plan on doing with those instruments than how clean they are._

_Then look around and figure out if you can get out of those chains. Geez! Do I have to do everything?_

Realizing that that was a) what he was originally doing; and b) a good idea, Nick did just that.

Just as he was about to check the ceiling for something to try and grab onto, the door opened to the room, admitting three men. The light coming from the adjoining room was excruciating on Nick’s head but he tried to hide the pain as much he could. He didn’t know who had taken him but he knew they were an enemy of sorts and he wasn’t about to show pain to the enemy.

 

The three men stood in front of him, wearing what looked like Monk’s robes and sneers of cruelty. Their scythe’s stood before them as though there were badges of honor to be proudly displayed. The two shorter but burlier men flanked the taller one, their sharp eyes glistening in the shadow of the light. Their facades slipped almost immediately and Nick could see them for what they were – Reapers.

 

_Ugh! Not these guys again!_

 

“Good morning Mr. Burkhardt, I trust you slept well,” the foremost Reaper taunted with a cold sneer.

 

For a moment Nick was thrown by the French accent but he covered it with a smile, “I did, but the accommodations could use some work.”

 

That little comment earned him a swift punch to the stomach with the handle of one of the burly guys’ scythe. The head guy, Nick decided to call him Francois, came up to Nick and placed the spear-end of his scythe against the Grimm’s vulnerable torso. He applied gentle pressure to the weapon as he slowly dragged it down Nick’s chest and ended just above his left hip bone.

 

Nick knew that the pressure hadn’t been necessary. The Reaper’s scythe was always kept razor sharp; he doubted one of the Reapers themselves could touch the tip without being cut. Blood lazily oozed from the long scratch, almost tickling the unharmed portion of Nick’s stomach as it flowed.

 

The pain, while sharp and stinging, wasn’t as intense as Nick thought it should have been but he wasn’t complaining. Either the pain sensors in that portion were dulled for one abnormal reason or another, or the Reaper hadn’t cut as deeply as Nick knew he wanted to. Neither option meant anything good and his situation wasn’t likely to get better anytime soon. He was glad that they had seemed to start out slowly; it might give him time to work out a plan.

 

“I apologize little Grimm if our “accommodations” are not to your liking but we do not want you too comfortable. You are here so that I may teach your regnant, your pretentious king, what happens when he does not listen to his masters.”

 

Indignance swirled through Nick. Who the hell was this guy calling little? Sure, Nick may not be the next Arnold Schwarzenegger but he was in no way little! And who was he calling pretentious anyways? Can we say Pot, meet Kettle? Who was he talking about? What king? Nick didn’t know any royalty; unless you counted the royal family of England but it’s not like he knew them personally. And what in the hell was a regnant?

 

Nick almost desperately wanted to ask his captor to whom the man was referring, what a regnant was, and why this was all relevant to Nick’s capture. However, asking all that would betray his confusion and he wasn’t about to give the Reaper the pleasure of witnessing it. He’d search for his answers in Aunt Marie’s trailer when he was free.

 

“Can I be in the room when you tell him that you’re his masters? I’d really love to see how he’d take that.” While Nick didn’t know who the Reapers were talking about, the way they had described the man suggested that the creature wouldn’t take too kindly to being told that he had masters. The ghost of a smile passed on his face when he pictured the three men currently beating him, standing in front of someone like Renard and telling him that they were his masters; it was really quite an amusing sight to imagine.

 

This time the blow was thirty times as vicious and it came from one of the accompanying Reaper’s scythe. Burly guy number two, who Nick decided to name Dumber, swung at him with such speed, the act was over before Nick’s mind had time to register that anything had happened. The pain was immediate and overwhelming; Nick cried out with it, unable to stop his voice from reacting. He didn’t have to look down to know that there was an infinitely deeper slash across his torso, starting from his right hip bone to his left shoulder.

 

“Now, now, Phineas, we do not wish for Mr. Burkhardt to bleed out,” Francois lightly scolded. Lazily, as though the act were an inconvenience, he pulled out a large towel from beneath his robes. “Be a good lad and wrap this around his chest, would you?”

 

The “bandage” was applied harshly and without thought to the pain they were causing their captive. Nick was thankful for the pretense of first aid but he highly doubted that would stem the flow.

 

Hard yellow eyes took in the blood seeping through the towel and an almost gleeful look came into them. “Well,” Francois said with a sigh, “I guess that means that we cannot touch your torso.” He paused contemplatively then said, “Let us lower him to the ground, shall we Ivan?”

 

Dumb walked over to a lever on the wall and yanked hard. Nick fell onto the unforgiving ground with a cry. At first the sound was in surprise but as soon as his injured ankle hit the floor, quickly followed by his damaged torso, it became a cry of pain. More blood soaked into the towel, both from the first, shallow cut as well as the latest, and the smell of it threatened to overturn his stomach.

 

Hands of silk grabbed his bruised and raw wrists, gently cradling them. Dumb and Dumber came to a stand behind him as Francois held onto Nick’s hands, grabbing his shoulders and pinning him to the ground. One hand enveloped his right hand while the other played a merry tune with his fingers. Francois tsked at the sight of his wrists, “Your regnant will not like this one bit, will he?”

 

Nick was torn between asking what a regnant was and who the man was talking about, and crying; he really hadn’t a clue which he’d prefer to do. What was once a grumbling ankle was now screaming bloody murder. His headache hadn’t abated one bit and it felt like it was going to implode pretty soon. And his chest and stomach felt like a bonfire with just the smallest hint of acid thrown in. Bottom line, he hurt!

 

Instead of curling into a ball and sobbing, however, Nick managed to smirk at the man still playing with his fingers. “No, he won’t.”

 

Again, Nick had no idea who the Reaper was talking about but, again, it sounded as though the man wouldn’t tolerate harm coming to someone he knew or cared about. Then again, who would? If someone had taken and harmed Sean, there wasn’t a door Nick wouldn’t tear down to find him; and when he did, those that harmed him wouldn’t see the light of day for the rest of their lives.

 

Francois nodded then looked down at Nick’s hand. When he looked back up there was a sadistic glint to his eyes that didn’t bode well for the Grimm at all.

 

“Still, I do not think that a couple of cuts and some bruises are worth the wrath he will more than likely express, do you?”

 

Nick didn’t answer, knowing that nothing he said would matter.

 

“Do you know what a regnant is Grimm?”

 

_CRACK!_ Francois broke Nick’s index finger with the amount of exertion it would take a person to break a pencil.

 

Nick cried out once again in agony. His body jerked in response to what was being done to one of its limbs but Francois’ goons held him firmly to the ground.

 

The Reaper sneered at Nick’s cry but continued on, “It is a fairytale creature, often mistaken for a dragon.”

 

_CRACK!_ The middle finger got broken. “Unlike dragons, however, regnants are very real.”

 

_CRACK!_ The ring finger broke. “It is a creature of royal descent; bred with loyalty, and enough self worth to believe itself indestructible.”

 

_POP!_ Nick’s pinky finger broke with little restraint, sounding more like a popping knuckle than a breaking bone. By now Nick had given up on expressing pain; he could see that his captors enjoyed it far too much. Silent tears streamed out of his eyes though, splattering upon the stone floor with hollow plops.

 

“It is quite beautiful to behold actually,” Francois continued as his hands moved to release Nick’s wrist. “Its body is comprised of scales which are often mistaken for small flicks of armor.” He idly played with the cuts and bruising on Nick’s freed wrist, making sure to press harshly into the deepest cut as he went. “Their color, well his color, is a magnificent array of bronze, burnt gold and dark copper that often changes with the light or his mood. His eyes are a deep orange, pupil-less and cold. Like the dragons of old, he has an elongated mouth filled with sharp fang-like teeth that could rip a human to pieces with one bite. His hands are decorated with long claws, the likes of which are matched only by the nails on his feet. His tail is long and almost as strong as his entire body combined. Adorned on his back are leathery wings, very much so like a bat’s but one hundred thousand times as long and that much more powerful.”

 

Francois’ hand moved so that his thumb ran idly over the back of Nick’s right hand. He had yet to release the Grimm’s other wrist, a fact which was making said Grimm nervous.

 

“Do you know why I am telling you all this Grimm?”

 

Nick’s title was spat out of the Reaper’s mouth with such hate one would have thought that Nick had personally killed every member of the man’s family. He grabbed a hold of his scythe and Nick felt a stone of dread as cold as dry ice drop into his stomach. At a nod from the ringleader, the goons proceeded to pin Nick down ever harder onto the floor. Their added weight to his injuries was excruciating but he had a feeling that it was about to get much worse.

 

“So that you can identify the creature, and the person for what he truly is, when you see him; so that you may him back in kind for what he ordered done to your aunt.” Francois answered with a smile on his lips. As he placed Nick’s right arm onto the floor and pinned it there with the sheer force of a creature, the head Reaper began to change into its Wesen form. Soulless yellow eyes watched him gleefully as he poised the scythe in the air. A voice much deeper than before but with the same amount of elegance teased, “How else are you to recognize that your beloved Sean Renard is not who he says he is?”

 

And with that, the Reaper swung its weapon down and into Nick’s hand.

 

Agony such as Nick had never felt before seared through his hand. It was simply indescribable and his mind didn’t even try; all it could process was, _“OW, OW, OW, HOLY FUCK, OW!!!! Get it out! Get it out!”_

 

The reptilian Reaper hissed in pleasure and dragged its tongue through the blood that was spilling freely out of the wound. It lapped up the blood like it was a dog thirsty for water then pulled the scythe back out, renewing the exquisite agony its captive was in that much more.

 

Another towel was produced and it was wrapped around the injured hand with just as much care as the first was. The goons let up on the pressure and Nick automatically curled into a fetal position, cradling his bleeding hand to his chest. His left arm was left flush against the floor and exposed but he didn’t care about that; the only thing his body wanted to do was try and keep any further harm from coming to his right hand.

 

Francois remained kneeling on the floor, watching Nick with little compassion and more curiosity than a cat. Slowly, he moved to release Nick’s left wrist from its confines.

 

Through the fog of agony, Nick’s mind screamed at him that if ever there was a time to try and escape, it was now. Francois looked like he planned on breaking every bone in Nick’s body while he waited and that was the last thing that Nick needed.

 

He waited, somewhat impatiently, for Francois to release his other wrist, all the while drawing up the strength of the Grimm from inside him. With as much strength and adrenaline as he could muster, Nick grabbed Francois’ right wrist and twisted cruelly. The joint broke under the strain and the leader howled in pain.

 

Just like that, the fight was on.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sean sat in his office chair, glaring at the objects within the space as if they themselves had offended him. He couldn’t believe the audacity of the Reapers! Not only had they taken Nick and were currently doing Lord only knows what to him but they had actually told him they’d done it. The idea would have been laughable if the threat hadn’t been so real.

 

The regnant inside him raged and thrashed eagerly, wanting to get out and dole out vengeance. Green eyes burned brightly with reddish orange. Normally, Sean didn’t have a problem keeping his composure from slipping. The creature within him often wanted out, especially when it came to dangerous situations involving his Grimm, but Renard often kept it in check. This time, however, Sean felt his composure slip and he had no desire to rein it in.

 

Before another thought could register in his mind, the Captain was out of his chair and speedily charging through the bullpen. With every passing second, Sean could feel his mask slip and he didn’t need to be in the middle of a police station when it happened entirely.

 

It bothered him that a threat on one person could have him lose complete control. Regnants were powerful creatures, bred with self-restraint, regality and loyalty. They didn’t react this way to threats.

 

When a threat to one of their protectorates comes along, Sean’s general reaction was to gauge the situation and call upon Adalind and her sisters to sniff out the trouble. If the need arose he would make an appearance to sort things out. Sometimes the threat would die then and there but other times the creature wasn’t smart enough to realize exactly who Sean was and challenged him.

 

Very rarely did the creature itself come out; usually there wasn’t a need. This time, however, the need was there and screaming at him to hurry.

 

He made sure he was in a private spot in the forest before he parked his vehicle and stripped; there was no need to ruin a perfectly good suit after all.

 

Moonlight glistened beautifully on his skin, shining on it like a lamp on an empty canvass. The surrounding trees played to the tune of nature as the early October breeze blew through them, their shadows bouncing around on his bare chest like wood sprites. Sean smiled at the sound, feeling almost at peace. Except the one part of his life that completed him had been taken, threatened and, more than likely, hurt.

 

Leathery black wings exploded violently from his back, expanding to a mile long combined. With the exception of the wings, which reacted first and foremost to the threat against Nick, Sean was still in human form. The long appendages partially surrounded his shoulders, the rest of them lying flatly on the ground. Standing in the moonlight the way he was, Sean looked more like a dark angel than the king and regnant that he was.

 

It didn’t take long for his form to change completely, the creature more than ready to come out and “play”. Sean stuck his nose in the air and inhaled deeply. He hoped to catch the smallest whiff of Nick’s scent but the only thing he could smell were Reapers.

 

Pupil-less eyes narrowed. If that’s the way they want it, then that’s the way they’re going to get it.

 

Sean took flight instantly and headed in the direction of the strongest scent. The Reapers believed that he needed to be taught a lesson, did they? Well, they were just about to learn what Captain Sean Renard of the Police Department, King and Regnant, and Protector of Portland was capable of; and it was going to be messy.

 

**TBC**


	2. Vengeance and Verification

**Part II – Vengeance and Verification**

 

Sean circled around in the skies a few times before landing. His shadow created a solid blackness on the ground that was intimidating to anyone who stood within it. The Regnant inhaled once again to make sure he had the right spot then roared into the night air when it was confirmed.

 

He landed silently upon the ground, the loose gravel of the alleyway sliding under his weight giving him the appearance of gliding. The landing was a relatively easy feat for the creature but landing almost completely without sound was something Sean had taken great pains to learn and perfect. A Wesen of his standing could never be too careful and ensuring that he could be practically invisible when he wished went a long way towards living a long life.

 

Dark copper and burnt gold skin shimmered magnificently in the moonlight, making the dermis look like it was lined with pure gold rather than colorful reptilian like scales. Slowly, the scales dimmed to a duller dark chocolate. The Regnant now looked black in color, helping him to blend seamlessly into the shadows of the night.

 

It wasn’t the normal practice of a Regnant to change its color. As a general rule, the species uses their bright and ornate colors to attract mates therefore there wasn’t ever a need to change their appearance. But in today’s time and society, with the Reapers hell bent on killing whomever they please and half of the Grimms doing so as well, it had become a necessity to learn how to adapt and change.

 

Long ago, Sean had discovered that there were many things Regnants could do that either his ancestors had chosen not to divulge to their young or didn’t know about at all. Changing one’s coloring to match their surroundings, much like the Chameleon, was just one of the powers they possessed.

 

Being able to remain half in morphed form and half out was another. Despite what the insidious Grimms thought, changing one’s form from human to Wesen is extremely taxing on the body. Allowing your features to melt away into nothing then giving into the creature within and letting it form completely new characteristics is, to say the least, hard. Your first instinct is to fight the process but not only is the creature too strong, it hurts to resist. It can take years for a young Wesen to learn to relax and let the change happen and until they do, the process is extremely painful. Once you learn to how to go with the morph, controlling the change is only a matter of practice and patience, something Sean is adept in.

 

One other, unknown skill the Regnants had was the ability to heal. They weren’t easy to wound but it could be done. The healing was never instantaneous but it did take Regnants a lot less time to heal than everyone else. A broken bone for a human or average Wesen took six to eight weeks to heal; for a Regnant it took maybe three. It was a handy skill to have given Sean’s choice of profession and his position in both the human and Wesen world. The only downside to this gift, that Sean could see, was that it could not be passed nor given to his mate who seemed to come home injured more often than not.

 

Sean walked down the dark tunnels, slinking low so that he looked like a lion ready to pounce and stayed in the darkness of the shaft. When he came to a fork in the road, so to speak, the Regnant froze and crouched even lower. Quietly, he sniffed the air to see which direction he should go then he, even quieter still, continued straight where he could almost see light.

 

The path led north for three miles before it widened into a giant alcove. Six Reapers stood in the cove, covered in monk-like brown robes. Dozens of torches hung on the walls, illuminating the stone of the tunnel. Firelight danced almost merrily off the Reapers’ scythes. It created little shining puppets of light onto the walls behind Sean, making it impossible for him to hide any longer.

 

The Regnant stepped further into the cove, allowing the flame light to fully. He smiled when each of the Reapers’ eyes widened in fear at the sight of him then slowly changed back into his human form, keeping only his wings so that his lover half could be covered and protected.

 

“You know why I am here,” Renard stated coolly as he stared down his opponents. Along with his wings, his eyes remained the same deep orange they had been, pupil-less and hard.

 

“We do,” the Reapers stated as one.

 

To any other being their synchronicity would have been eerie or unnerving but Sean hadn’t paid attention to that; the only thing he heard was their words. His back straightened that much more at their answer but it was the red that slowly seeped into his eyes that truly showed the Reapers how angry he was by their answer.

 

“Will you give me what I seek?”

 

“We will not.”

 

Again, the conformity should have bothered him on some level but again, all he heard was their answer. The reddish orange in his eyes was now a deep, violent red. Transforming one’s eye color went along with being able to change one’s skin color; but unlike the skin changing to whatever colors the Regnant desires, the eyes transitioned according to the Regnant’s emotions. When angered, the amount of red that filled the eye could rival the color of a Blutbad’s when they morphed.

 

Sean bowed his head and drew in a deep breath. It wasn’t that his next move was a hard decision to make: in fact it was an easy one. No, it was that he had to calm the Regnant inside him that was demanding it be allowed to quickly shred the Reapers to pieces so they could be on their way and searching for their mate. Sean understood the desire to get this over and done with but he knew that things would be made much easier if he could worm the information out of the vermin before him. 

 

When he looked up, the red in his eyes hadn’t dimmed one bit. The flame light sharpened the already sharp features of the Reapers but even still, Sean could see fear beginning to creep into their souls. Good, he could use that to his advantage. He smiled a brief feral smile full of white gleaming teeth before he quickly replaced it with his cool, calculating stare. “Then I will show you no mercy,”

 

“We ask for none,” the Reapers replied, once again in unison. They poised in an attacking stance and held their scythes ready for the strike. “And we will show you none as well Regnant.”

 

They spat his title out of their mouths with a hiss but Sean was not given time to dwell on it. Without further warning, the Reapers pounced, ambushing on all sides. Instantly, Sean’s form changed from half human/half Regnant to full Regnant. The beast sprung forth as though summoned by an unearthly power and returned the assault.

 

The Wesen used its rage and hunger to drive its strength and speed. For every move the Reapers made, the Regnant made two countermoves. The Reapers’ scythes struck the Regnant’s arms, legs, back, anything that they could get at but in doing so, they left themselves open for a much more dangerous attack. Sharp claws the length of two small swords swiped at two of the creatures, cutting through their flesh, muscle, and bone like a hot knife through butter. They died two minutes later from blood loss.

 

The remaining Reapers howled their anger and renewed their attacks. Three of them kept the creature busy by dancing around it, which allowed their other two compatriots to get behind Sean’s defenses. He smelled them before he saw them and his wings instantly shot out to form a protective barrier as well as swat them away.

 

The Regnant’s right wing struck the Reaper hard in the chest, breaking a few of its ribs and cracking its skull against the roof of the cavern before it fell into a heap onto the floor. The left wing, however missed as the Reaper saw it coming and slid out of the way in time to miss the bone crushing blow. Noticing that the Regnant was busy with the rest of its company, the Reaper slid under the wing, pulled out a long knife from within its cloak and stuck it into the Regnant’s shoulder.

 

Sean roared in pain and immediately began favoring the injured arm. Thinking their prey was ready for the kill, the three conscious Reapers attacked, scythes before them in the killing pose. What they hadn’t counted on was the Regnant’s tail coming seemingly out of nowhere and colliding with them, sending them smashing into the walls. Just like their unconscious comrade, each of their skulls cracked against the wall, hard, and they fell to the floor in boneless heaps.

 

Not caring about the pain in his shoulder, Sean walked up to the unconscious Reapers and towered over them. Like all Wesen, Sean was stronger in creature form so he remained in his Regnant form, not trusting his strength if he were to morph back into a human.

 

Despite the human side of him demanding that he not destroy the creatures beneath him, the Regnant reached down with its mouth and grabbed the first unconscious Reaper. It shook the thing like it was a rag doll, effectively breaking the Wesen’s spine, before allowing its sharp teeth to tear the thing in half. The Regnant repeated the process with the second and third reapers, leaving just one alive.

 

Patiently, he towered over the remaining creature, waiting for it to wake up. While he waited he called Adalind; he was going to need some help getting the knife out of his shoulder and a body clean-up crew and she was just the Hexenbiest to get it done. After relaying his coordinates, Sean tucked his phone back into his pocket and stared down at its prey. He wanted answers and sooner or later he was going to get them.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

_He waited, somewhat impatiently, for Francois to release his other wrist, all the while drawing up the strength of the Grimm from inside him. With as much strength and adrenaline as he could muster, Nick grabbed Francois' right wrist and twisted cruelly. The joint broke under the strain and the leader howled in pain._

Nick didn’t even bother waiting to see what Dumb and Dumber’s reactions would be; he simply acted. Adrenaline and survival instincts kicked his senses into high gear, pushing back the agony he knew was coursing through his body.

 

Francois sat before him, his scythe abandoned, panting in pain. The Grimm knew an opportunity when he saw one so he grabbed the lonely weapon and held it before him, ready for anything that came at him. His grip on the scythe was tenuous at best; with the exception of his thumb, his right hand was completely useless. So, he used his left hand to hold onto the weapon, hiding his surprise at how easy he found it to hold.

 

Dumb and Dumber wasted no more time waiting for him to be ready. It had taken a while for them to get over their initial shock of what had just happened, thus giving Nick time to grab the scythe, but once they’d gotten over it, they attacked. Dumb went first, swinging his scythe in an upward motion at Nick. Nick hopped back, grimacing when he was reminded of just how injured he was, and blocked the blow with a strangled cry of exertion and pain.

 

That cry was all the Reapers needed. Seeing that Nick was barely able to hold onto the scythe, both of the Wesen attacked as, abandoning their plan of one-on-one. Dumb to Nick’s left sneered cruelly and drew his scythe back while Dumber advanced like a footballer heading for the tackle.

 

It was a split-second reaction but it was enough. As if in slow motion, Nick turned his head from one direction to the other, barely debating what to do. His heart was beating so incredibly fast that he swore it was going to jump out of his throat any minute. Grey-blue eyes widened in fear and revelation as he took in his chances.

 

Readying himself for the pain, Nick swung his scythe at the Reaper charging him. The weapon sliced cleanly across the Wesen’s throat before lodging itself into his jaw. The Reaper was dead before he even knew what had happened.

 

The maneuver had cost Nick, though, as it left his backside open to attack from the remaining reaper. Searing pain raced through the back of Nick’s left arm. He fought the urge to favor the arm as he felt blood begin to trickle down the limb and kept it calmly by his side. The Grimm stared down the remaining Reaper, determination filling his blue-grey eyes. His body was weakening, and quickly, but he wasn’t about to back down; his life was on the line, he couldn’t give up.

 

Somewhere beyond the cabin Nick heard a screech like a very big bird. A few seconds passed then a roar unlike any other he had ever heard echoed through the tension, briefly cutting through it. Even as it reverberated through the stone of the prison, Nick felt as though he personally knew what or who was making the sound.

 

For the briefest of seconds Dumber’s eyes grew wide with fear when he heard the roar. Then, lizard-like eyes focused back on Nick and all trace of fear was gone, replaced with a malice no creature should feel toward its fellow man.

 

“It looks like your husband is here,” he sneered.

 

Nick could tell that it was meant as a negative thing but of the two of them, Nick was definitely more the female than Sean. Besides, he was too busy trying to stay upright to worry about comments on his personal life.

 

Instead, the Grimm gave a half smile, “You should stick around. I’m sure he’d _love_ to meet you.”

 

The Reaper snorted then raised its scythe, ready to attack. “This won’t take that long,” he threatened as he and Nick began the dance of a fight. “I’ll be long gone before he gets down here.”

 

“That you will be,” Nick guaranteed with more vibrato than he felt, “but your body won’t be.”

 

Dumber remained still for a moment, its brain slowly trying to figure out exactly what Nick meant. Then it let out an inhumane howl and charged.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sean landed in a clearing just to the south of the stone cottage. He cradled his injured arm close to his chest as he landed, hoping to jar the damaged shoulder as little as possible as he hit the ground. Clawed feet dug into the soil, giving his body a steady perch to sit upon while he took stock of the area around him.

 

The moon was high in the sky by now, the early evening from earlier gone and replaced by a deep, calming midnight. The gentle breeze had all but disappeared, thinning itself into the night air until it was no more. Oregon trees surrounded everything for miles, this clearing being the only open spot around. The house itself sat shaded by the trees, hidden from unfriendly eyes.

 

The Regnant heard a screech come from a bird-like Reaper, announcing his presence but he didn’t care. He put his snout into the air and inhaled. On the wind was a mixture of scents: trees, leaves, the Reapers, and the oncoming autumn. But none were as thick as those of pain and fatigue that surrounded Nick.

 

_Bastards!_

Sean let loose a roar of rage that he knew all within a one hundred mile radius could hear. If he had been a Blutbad, his ears would be lying flat against his skull and his teeth would be bared. Being a Regnant, however, his ferocious teeth were bared in a snarl and his entire body was poised to strike.

 

The vermin that worked for the Reapers were the first to meet Sean’s wrath; they lasted mere seconds before the Regnant had them in pieces on the ground. The second wave came in the form of the Reapers themselves.

 

Dozens of Reapers swarmed him as he started marching to the front door of the cottage, perhaps hoping they could overpower the Regnant. Sean easily flitted them away, flinging them against trees with backbreaking force and swiping at them with his massive claws. With just over one quarter of their original strike force left, the remaining Reapers, the ones who managed to miss getting skewered by tree limbs or sliced open like fish, backed away cautiously.

 

Sean could see that they were preparing to renew their attack so he swung out with his tail and grabbed them all within it. He squeezed until he felt the Wesen’s spines break then he threw them in the same area as the rest. Without a second glance behind or around him, the Regnant continued to prowl towards the front door.

 

As if by magic, Sean’s form shimmered in the moonlight from Regnant to human, allowing him to rest his hurting arm as he walked on his legs. The pain was slowly beginning to lessen as the wound scabbed over but the shoulder was still only able to hold his weight for limited amounts of time.

 

His eyes remained non-human in color. They glowed red with rage, giving the police captain an almost satanic look. Naked though he was, Sean’s human form radiated power as he stalked through the bare but classically decorated cottage.

 

The would-be silence was constantly interrupted by the sounds of fighting. A growl rippled deep in his throat when a familiar cry of pain echoed from the cellar. Black, leathery wings sprouted out of his back like a slowly growing vine, subtly wrapping around Sean as though they were trying to protect and comfort him with the single act.

 

It took all of his control not to storm the cellar and rush in to save his mate. Not only was that an unsafe move (he didn’t know how many there were or where they were located) but he knew that Nick wouldn’t appreciate the “White Knight” routine.

 

Though he didn’t look it, Nick was no damsel in distress, ever. He knew how to take care of himself. His police training usually helped him out more than anything but when push came to shove, the Grimm knew how to hold his own in a fight.

 

The problem this time was that his Grimm was injured. Sean could smell the waves of pain rolling off his mate and it made him nauseous. Normally, the smell of pain was enticing, intoxicating to the point of driving a hunter insane. The stench that was coming from Nick smelled like sulfur and sewer with just the barest hint of copper thrown in.

 

He reached the door and peered in, making sure to keep his presence hidden as he listened to what was happening inside. Unable to withstand the urge to visibly see what was going on, Sean peeked inside.

 

Nick stood among the bodies of two Reapers. A blood-soaked towel was wrapped around his torso. Whether the blood was mostly Nick’s or the Reapers he had slain, Sean didn’t know but he didn’t care either. The only thing he noticed was that there was a need to wrap the towel around his mate’s torso to begin with and that was all he cared about. Red eyes narrowed as they took in the rest of Nick’s appearance.

 

Wrapped around the Grimm’s right hand was another towel, smaller in comparison to the one around his torso. A small red dot of blood was soaked into the center with flicks of blood around it. The fingers of the same hand were gruesomely swollen and bent out of place; it didn’t take a genius to know what was wrong with them, they’d been broken.

 

The sound of movement from just behind the door told Sean that someone else was in the room and they were preparing to attack but before anything could be done, a third Reaper,  known as Leroux, lunged at Nick. The Grimm side-stepped the attack, though from what Sean could see not because that was his plan but because his right leg couldn’t hold him up any longer, and the Reaper slammed head-first into stone wall behind Nick.

 

Nick swooped down, wrapping his right arm tightly around the Reaper’s neck and applying pressure as he knelt. The Wesen tried to grab at the Grimm’s badly injured hand but Nick used his good hand to still the Reaper’s movement.

 

“What are you going to do little Grimm?” Leroux taunted hoarsely. “Kill me in cold blood?”

 

“No, I’m not gonna kill you,” Nick answered in a pant. He grimaced and Sean felt his heart break at the sight. Nick didn’t have a high pain tolerance but it did take a lot for him to admit when he was hurting, at least when he was around people he didn’t know.

 

The Grimm hauled the seemingly defenseless Reaper to its feet and used his body to spin them so they faced the partially open door.

 

Knowing that Nick knew he was there, Sean opened the door so that his half-morphed form was framed in the doorway. The Grimm nodded in his direction and finished his earlier sentence, “But he might.”

 

Sean released his control, fully morphing back into his Regnant self. His large body didn’t fit through the doorway, so he used his tail to widen it a little, taking care not to bring the place down upon him or his mate. He saw Nick’s eyes widen in both fear and amazement but he kept his main focus on the Reaper.

 

Leroux sat completely still within Nick’s grasp, no longer fighting to get free. In his eyes, Sean could see determination but it did little to mask the slight tremors of fear ransacking his body. The scent of his cowardice smelt like cinnamon rolls (one of Sean’s favorite treats) to the Regnant, making the dragon-like Wesen lick its lips in hunger.

 

Oh yes, he would love to kill the Reaper. But he needed to do something first. He looked at Nick, slowly changing his eyes so that they were his usual green. Silently, he asked his Grimm his permission to dole out vengeance. Nick’s normally gentle eyes were hard as granite as he nodded, showing Sean just how determined he was in his decision. Leroux had crossed too many lines for the Grimm to consider leaving him be.

 

Sean cocked his head to the side, silently inquiring about simply arresting the Reaper. The man had kidnapped a police officer and tortured him after all. Now it was Nick’s turn to cock his head in thought, giving a minute wince as he did so. Sean saw his body seize briefly in pain, feeling his heart break that much more.

 

Leroux felt the Grimm’s body become rigid and his hands twitch. He knew that the man had just caused himself some pain; it wasn’t hard after all, the Reaper had made sure to inflict as much damage as he could. Knowing that now was his chance, Leroux slammed his elbow into the Grimm’s badly injured ribs as hard as he could.

 

The thing cried out long in pain, instantly letting the Reaper go as he fell to the ground and curled in on himself. Leroux scurried away, from the creature holding it, smiling viciously as he moved, only to come face to face with an extremely pissed off Regnant. The smile faded immediately, turning into a blank look of determined calm.

 

“You know that you cannot kill me Regnant,” he stated, coming to his feet in front of the creature.

 

“On the contrary, my good Leroux,” the king answered lazily as it sauntered up to tower over him. “You are on my turf and you have hunted and hurt one that is under my protection. I am well within my right as king and protector to kill you on sight.”

 

As it moved, Leroux noticed that it was limping on its left side, heavily favoring its left limb. While the Regnant talked (the Reaper knew that the king was well within his right to kill him so he didn’t bother listening to the explanation), he scanned the scaled skin for signs of injury, smiling once again when he noticed some scabbing around the shoulder joint.

 

Without wasting any time, the Reaper grabbed the nearest weapon he could, which happened to be an abandoned scythe, and shoved the blunt end of the weapon into the Regnant’s injured shoulder. The creature cried out in pain, the sound a combination between a howl and a roar, and reared back so that it was sitting on its hind legs.

 

Leroux drew back to strike again, this time with the sharp end, but just as his arms began to swing forward, raging pain scoured his chest and the Reaper felt the strength in his arms fail. The scythe dropped to floor, clanging against the stone as it landed, and the Frenchman looked down at his chest. Sticking a good foot out of the cavity was a curved blade with a name on it. As the life left his body, he was left with one last thought – he had just been killed with his own scythe.

 

**TBC**


	3. Unexpected Sources

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains references to “Beeware”, “Last Grimm Standing”, and the newest episode of “Island of Dreams”. If you have not seen one or all of those episodes, please consider this to be your SPOILER warning. ;-) I have changed some of the details from “Last Grimm Standing”, though, so that it happened in a different way at the end but it’s nothing major, really. 
> 
> Also, some of the scenes will collide with one another. Like, this chapter begins from where Nick’s POV last left off and continues from there and Renard’s POV picks up..well, you’ll see when you read. ;-)

**Part III – Unexpected Sources**

The angry Reaper charged after letting out a loud howl of rage, barely giving Nick time to react. With a strength and agility he never knew he had, the Grimm grabbed Francois’ abandoned scythe and swiped it across the Wesen’s neck. It was a clean kill. The scythe did more than cut the Reaper’s throat; it cut through to his spine, effectively cutting his brain off from the rest of his body.

 

Within seconds of Nick’s move, the Reaper collapsed at his feet, spraying blood over the Grimm and everything else around him. The carnage was gory enough to make one think that Nick had just fought in a war and Nick’s body seemed to agree. He currently stood on shaky legs, every injury from before screaming at him to stop moving. But he couldn’t, not yet. There was still one more Reaper to deal with.

 

He stood, surrounded by the bodies of the two Reaper goons, staring down the ringleader. On the air he could smell something that resembled Sean but knew that it wasn’t the Sean he knew, it was something else. Movement just outside the door drew his brief notice, but he was forced to change attentions when Francois started rushing him.

 

Nick tried to take a fighting stance but his right ankle chose that time to buckle, sending shooting pain through his leg. Choosing to collapse against the wall to his left, rather than his right, Nick just managed to get out of the way. He waited until the Reaper’s head hit the stone before he crouched down and placed his assailant in a choke hold. His body was weakening, and quickly, but Nick refused to show Francois that.

 

“What are you going to do little Grimm?” the Wesen questioned gruffly. “Kill me?”

 

Again, indignance squirmed its way through every part of Nick’s being at being called little but he ignored it. His hold grew a bit tighter as he answered, “No, I’m not gonna kill you.”

 

He forcefully hauled the Reaper up, something every cell in his abused body was advising against as pain raced through him, and turned him so that they both faced the door where Nick could see murderous red eyes watching them.

 

The Grimm patiently waited for Sean to get the hint and open the door so that he could be visibly seen by both Nick and the Reaper. Once the Captain was in full view, Nick nodded his head in his friend’s direction, “But he might.”

 

No sooner had he uttered those words than the air around them seemed to spark from unseen rage, sending little shots of bright lighting around the room. It took Nick a few seconds to realize two things. One: the door way was a lot wider, causing the sturdy stone around him to crack and bring little bits down on top of his head, hence the dancing spots; and two: the most magnificent looking creature he has ever seen stood where Sean had been only moments before.

 

Francois was right, the Wesen did resemble something of a dragon but it was more than that, Nick could feel it. Power emanated from every molecule of the creature. It soaked into Nick’s skin, seeping to his very bones and wrapping around him so potently that he had to stifle the urge to let go of his control and bow.

 

The scales were indeed the most beautifully colored burnt orange Nick had ever seen but he wasn’t given long to dwell on them as they soon changed to a deep, blood red. Cold red eyes looked at him and Nick felt his own blue-grey ones widen briefly in both fear and awe.

 

Nick had always known that Sean was hiding something from him, how he’d managed to bite Nick so deeply the first time they had sex for one, but he had never thought it was something like this. Sure, Francois had taken great pains, mostly Nick’s, to tell him as much and even went into great detail about the creature as a whole but seeing it in person was something entirely different. Still, the Grimm stood his ground, making sure to keep as tight a hold as he could on the Reaper within his grasp.

 

After giving Nick a brief glance, the creature – no the Regnant – turned its calculating gaze onto the Reaper. Slight shaking began to vibrate through Nick’s body, alerting him that the man he was holding against him was doing his best not to quake from fear and was failing miserably. The vibrations caused pain to ripple through Nick as they shook his tender and now excruciating injuries. He did his best to stop tears from forming in his eyes but they came nonetheless. Thankfully Sean’s attention was focused solely on the Reaper so he didn’t see them; for some reason Nick couldn’t explain, he didn’t like the idea of showing such pain and weakness to his lover.

 

By the time Sean _did_ look at Nick, the Grimm had managed to dry his eyes and peered into the lizard-like orbs, to see what the man wanted. The answer was as obvious as the dried blood on Nick’s skin – Sean wanted permission to kill the Reaper. Given Sean’s status in the Wesen world, Nick knew that he wasn’t asking a Grimm’s permission, but his. Francois has done Nick great wrong and he was within his right to take the Reaper’s life, but Nick didn’t want it. Without having to think, the Grimm nodded that it was alright.

 

Delight briefly clouded the red eyes before the Regnant cocked its head to the side in a silent question. It didn’t take Nick long to work out what the question was – why not arrest he man, Reaper though he may be, for kidnap and torture?

 

A stone so heavy it could have sunk to the bottom of the deepest part of the ocean descended into Nick’s stomach. He hadn’t even thought of that. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Was his Grimm heritage, the part that killed without remorse, starting to shine through? Nick thought he was different from all the other Grimms out there but, was that only a delusion? Was he meant to be something far more dangerous to all the Wesen out there?

 

Bile began to jump into his throat at the ideas. Though he loved her with all his heart, Nick had no desire to become like his aunt.

 

Nick cocked his head, debating how to answer the silent question. When spike-driven pain stabbed through his head and neck, the Grimm cringed, giving a wince as his body simply froze in discomfort. The pain in his head was nothing compared to what he felt in his side a few seconds later though. Breathtaking agony swept viciously through his right side, starting where the, now, broken ribs resided and spreading out from there. Unable to stop himself, Nick gave a long cry of pain, releasing his hold on the Reaper and falling to floor. He curled into a protective ball, gasping, cringing and gritting his teeth as he moved. The tears from before now freely spilled out of his eyes, dropping onto the stone floor in quick succession.

 

In the background the Grimm could hear conversation going on but the only thing his mind could truly focus on was the pain the ravaged his body. The floor wasn’t too comfortable on his injuries, the only one actually liking the position was his hurting ankle, but he didn’t have the strength to move; that was, until he heard a roar filled with nothing but pain.

 

Something stirred within him at the sound. It was hard to identify at first because he had never felt it before. Yes, Nick was a very protective person. He cared deeply about every friend in his life and would gladly trade his life for theirs but this was something else altogether. This was an unadulterated instinct to protect at all costs. It felt a bit military thinking about it like that but there was no other way to describe it.

 

Without so much as thinking about his own injuries, Nick moved so quickly that everything was over before his mind had even had a chance to discern what had happened. He grabbed the scythe that Francois had used and thrust it so deeply into the Reaper that the entire length of the blade now resided within the man.

 

The Reaper uttered what sounded to Nick like a surprised choking sound then fell lifelessly to the floor. Realizing that its work was done, Nick’s body began to slowly shut down. The Grimm had just enough time to see Sean change from the Regnant to human before the darkness finally claimed what was its.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sean sat on his back legs, guarding his injured shoulder and staring at the scene before him. The filth that was Leroux drew back to strike again, this time with murderous intent. Despite the pain pulsing in his shoulder, the Regnant moved forward so that it was easier for him to defend himself. But just when the Reaper started to swing forward, he stopped and his weapon clattered to the floor with a hollow clunk. Another scythe was sticking out of Leroux’s chest with blood freely dripping of the portion that now stuck out of it. When the Reaper collapsed onto the floor, all that was left was Nick.

 

The Grimm’s stance was determined and hard, looking as though there wasn’t a single injury on his body, though Sean knew it to be otherwise. Those blue-grey eyes that Sean loved to stare at were now clouded with something the Regnant had never seen from Nick; pure rage.

 

For a moment, Sean couldn’t see “Nick the Cop” or “Nick the abnormal Grimm”, all he saw was the legacy of Nick’s ancestors coming alive within him. All he saw was a Grimm, a Grimm who looked ready to kill anything else that gave him even the slightest bit of a reason to. Strength and power such as Sean had never felt poured off Nick, making the Regnant want to cower and hide for the briefest of seconds.

 

When Nick started to sway, however, Sean knew that the man had pushed himself far past his limits and his body had slowly started to give up. Quickly, the Captain morphed from Regnant to himself, leaving only his wings so that he could catch the Grimm before he hit the hard ground and caused himself further injury. The strain of the weight pulled a little on his hurting shoulder but Sean ignored it as his other wing came around to share some of the weight. He cradled Nick as though he were in a hammock then pulled out his phone to call Adalind.

 

“Are you ready for us?” she asked, knowing full well why he had called.

 

“Yes,” he answered a little tiredly. He looked down at Nick and added, “Have one of your sisters pick up my car.” It would have been faster for him to morph back into his Regnant form and fly Nick back to the city but Sean was injured and not as strong as he normally was. He would not take the risk of dropping Nick. Besides, one of the Hexenbiests had been a field medic in Iraq and was now not only a doctor but Sean’s personal concierge doctor. He knew she could stabilize Nick long enough for Sean to get him home.

 

“Already done,” Adalind answered tonelessly. “We’re almost there as we speak.”

 

“Good,” Sean answered as he gently placed Nick onto the floor. The Grimm quietly whimpered in his sleep as some of his injuries were jostled but gave no other sign of consciousness. Sean softened his tone considerably as he added, “And Adalind? Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” she said and then hung up.

 

Though she was pretending otherwise, Sean knew his gratitude had meant a lot. He knew that she cared about him, maybe even loved him in her own way, and those feelings were returned in full. There had been a time when he had been certain that she was “the one” and he had treated her as such. Until Nick had come along that is, then things had changed.

 

Every time Sean had called on Adiland from then onwards, always had something to do with the Grimm. Whether it was to kill said Grimm’s aunt, to protect him when he didn’t know it, or to bring him over to their side via his friend and work partner Hank, it always included Nick to a degree. While at the art museum, Sean had heard the jealousy in her voice as they had spoken and he’d tried to appease it by giving her arm a sensual caress but it hadn’t worked. To some degree, she had known that they were losing what they had because of Nick and she hadn’t liked it one bit.

 

It hadn’t been until she had willingly allowed Nick to get stabbed in the shoulder that Sean had begun to realize just how much she didn’t approve.

 

Nick had gone to the Lowen games to rescue his friend and side partner, Eddie Monroe. Being the cop that he was, he had told Hank to bring back-up first but that had done little to help him until it actually arrived. He’d stalled for time well enough, beating Dimitri Scantos at his own game and knocking him unconscious.

 

Sean knew that the Blutbad had been taken and so he had sent Adalind to the game to make sure that no harm had come to Nick. He knew that all Hexenbiests knew Nick was off limits but he wanted to make sure that he had someone specifically there to keep the Grimm safe thus giving himself someone to blame if something happened to Nick.

 

It seemed one particular Hexenbiest had chosen to ignore his warning, however, and when the gates to the fighting cage opened, she had been the first one inside. Adalind had idly watched on the sidelines as Nick had been tackled to the ground. The Hexenbiest had quickly stuck the knife into the Grimm’s shoulder and had fled just as back-up had arrived.

 

Later, at the hospital, when he’d been interviewed by Hank and Sean, Nick had said that he hadn’t expected the blow and that was why he’d been taken so off guard. Hank had, of coursed teased his partner about being a softy, claiming that it was because it had been a woman that had tackled but Sean knew the truth. The Grimm had been surprised to see a Hexenbiest at the Lowen games.

 

Sean had left the hospital and headed home, knowing that Adalind would be there waiting for him. He hadn’t spared her as he unleashed his fury at her. She’d given him a marvelous pout more than once but it had had no effect on him. He’d managed to refrain from yelling but the venom in his voice had been thirty times what it was whenever he was mad as he had quietly told her that if she did something like that again, she _would_ end up like Serena and Camilla only it wouldn’t be from bee venom.

 

Tears had flowed freely from her eyes at his threat but she had managed to hold his eye contact, evenly staring at him though there was pain in her eyes. She’d promised that she would do as he wished from now on and left, saying that he should think of how he truly felt about the Grimm because if he got this worked up over “a petty thing like a stab wound”, he obviously had more in mind than just his own ambitions.

 

From then on Adalind had done as she was instructed but she didn’t keep company with him unless she absolutely had to. When Sean had slowly begun a relationship with Nick, Adalind had refused to help him altogether for quite a few months. It had taken Nick getting shot while bodily protecting Sean for her to slowly come around. She had seen just how much the Grimm cared about Sean and though she had wanted it to be her the Regnant loved, she had been willing to accept that they would never have worked. She still wasn’t overly friendly with Nick, their past was constantly tripping them up, but the two had come to an understanding of commonality.

 

Screeches and howls brought Sean out of his reverie and back to the present. He didn’t know how much time had passed while he’d zoned out but in that time, he’d managed to take Nick upstairs, placed him on the couch, and replace Nick’s dirty and bloodstained “bandages” with some clean clothing he’d apparently found in the cottage. The hand wound was no longer bleeding but it was an open wound so he’d wrapped that and kept his hands pressing down on the barely-there-bleeding of the torso wound.

 

“Enjoyed yourself, I see,” Adalind commented dryly as she entered the cottage. When Sean didn’t answer she gave a long-suffering sigh and asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

 

“Send Aubrey in with her kit,” Sean answered, knowing that the ex-military Hexenbiest always carried supplies with her at times like this. She’d been the one to semi-patch Sean’s shoulder up before he continued looking for Nick, though it needed work once again.

 

Retreating footsteps told Sean that Adalind was doing what she’d been told but the woman herself hadn’t said a word as she left. Sean continued to stare down at his sleeping Grimm. It should have been a crime how serene the man looked in his sleep though he was badly hurt. When Sean began to caress Nick’s face, blue-grey eyes fluttered open.

 

“You okay?” Nick asked, his voice strained and full of pain.

 

Sean gave a slight nod and said, “Thanks to you.”

 

“Guess I’m not the only one who needs protecting huh?” Nick joked then slowly fell back to sleep. The conversation had been brief but it had been enough to sap what little energy the Grimm had gained from passing out.

 

“I hear I have a patient,” Aubrey’s gentle alto voice commented, thus announcing her presence.

 

Sean turned around to stare at the brunette. Her words may have been teasing but there was nothing but concern in her honey eyes as she slowly walked over to where Nick was lying.

 

Though she too was a Hexenbiest, Aubrey Clark was one of the sweetest people Sean knew. She wasn’t like Adalind who was catty, vindictive and conniving.  She had a heart and she cared about those in pain. It was true she’d gone to war for her country but it wasn’t the human side of her that had commanded her to, it was the Hexenbiest. The Wesen within had reveled in the carnage and pain it had caused but Aubrey’s true nature couldn’t be denied and soon she had become a field medic instead. When she had been discharged from the military, she had completed her medical training and had become a doctor. Now, at the age of forty, she was the most sought after concierge doctor in west coast.

 

Aubrey knelt by Nick, gently pushing Sean aside, and began to examine the unconscious man. Once she’d finished her cursory exam, she sighed, “Well he should be taken to a hospital as soon as possible,” she paused to pointedly look at Sean. Upon seeing that he was not about to do any such thing she continued, “but I’ll get him stabilized for the drive to your place where I _will_ perform a complete examination.”

 

She went back to her work, carefully inserting needles where they needed to be and performing basic first aid for most of Nick’s injuries. Nick groaned every so often but Aubrey was able to soothe him with a few words in some language or another. It was a technique Sean knew well; when trying to calm a person in pain, English (or German or any other coarse language) rarely helped. Often times, she ended up speaking Latin (or any other latin-based language) because of its almost musical quality.

 

When she was finished she looked back up at Sean. “You’ll have to come up with a reason for his medical leave,” she warned. “He won’t be up and moving for at least a couple of weeks.”

 

“It doesn’t look that bad to me,” Adalind pouted from somewhere behind him.

 

Sean didn’t need to fix the lawyer with a glare as her friend did it for her. “Well when you get sliced from hip bone to collar bone with a scythe, I’ll be sure to remind you of that.”

 

“How deep?” Sean asked, breaking up a potentially violent argument before it began.

 

“The weapon sliced through several layers of dermis and muscle but with a lot of stitching and even more rest, he’ll be fine. I’ve already started him on antibiotics to fight infection and, as you can see,” she waved a hand to a bag filled with red liquid, “have started a transfusion but that’s all I can do for now.” She looked around for a moment, seemingly to find something then addressed Adalind, “Go into Renard’s car and grab the backboard in the trunk.” When Adalind crossed her arms in defiance, demanding an apology, Aubrey’s Hexenbiest came out and snarled; she wasn’t in the mood for the blonde’s adolescent games.

 

Being the younger, and less practiced, of the two, Adalind did as she was told, giving an exasperated eye roll before she did so.

 

“I thought she’d gotten over her desire for revenge,” Aubrey commented as Adalind left. Indicating what she meant, she gave a quick look down at her patient then back up at Sean.

 

“She has,” Sean replied gruffly. The Regnant and protective personality within him was getting more and more anxious to get Nick back to his place and in safety. Adalind’s constant meandering was adding to a headache that was slowly screaming its presence and was beginning to wear down his patience. It was a combination that would not bode well for her if she continued the act. He raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and winced when he realized he had done it with his injured arm.

 

Aubrey stared at him thoughtfully, “Let me look at your shoulder while we wait.”

 

“It’ll be fine,” Sean argued, only wanting her attention on Nick. He nodded his head over to where Leroux lay sprawled and lifeless, “The vermin reopened the wound in hopes of getting away,” a brief, satisfied smile came onto his face as he remembered, “but he hadn’t counted on the Grimm behind him.”

 

The medic raised an eyebrow then smiled, “You’ll have to fill me when while I work.” She sighed and looked down at Nick, “This may take awhile.”

 

“Will you need help?” Adalind’s voice asked, surprising Sean as he hadn’t noticed her arrival. He must be beginning to wear down as well if she was able to sneak up on him.

 

Hearing the sincerity within the question, Aubrey smiled at her friend as she took the board from her, “No,” she said before glancing at Sean who nodded his consent and approval, “I think we’ve got it covered.”

 

Knowing what was expected of them, Sean and Adalind helped Aubrey get Nick onto the board where it was easier to stabilize his injuries. The Grimm groaned deep in his throat, breaking Sean and Aubrey’s hearts and Aubrey bent down to whisper in his ear.

 

As soon as Nick was quiet, Adalind and Aubrey changed into their Hexenbiest forms and grabbed the handles for the board. Stronger in their Wesen forms, the two women carried Nick out to Sean’s waiting SUV like they were carrying Styrofoam and gently placed him in the back seat. Cradling his hurting arm against his chest, Sean followed, managing to look regal and powerful as he moved.

 

Aubrey remained standing outside the back doors of the vehicle, silently waiting for him to approach. When he came face to face with her, she nodded her head to the open spot by Nick’s head and said, “Get in. You are not driving in your condition.”

 

Sean’s spine straightened at his apparent weakness. The doctor, who had changed back to her human form, continued to stare at him defiantly. “I have told you, I am fine.”

 

“Yes you did, and I don’t believe you. Besides, it won’t be easy for you to drive with your shoulder the way it is. I know you heal fast Renard but you don’t heal that fast.” She pointed to the spot once again and commanded, “Now get in before I bodily force you in.”

 

To say that Sean wasn’t used to someone standing up to him in such a way would be an understatement. He knew that Aubrey knew who he was, their years of knowing one another ensured that, and yet she still dared to challenge and command him?

 

Oh he knew that the woman wouldn’t be able to actually force him in by herself, even in Wesen form he was much stronger and heavier than her, but with her surrounded by several other Hexenbiests, he wasn’t exactly sure. He saw Adalind’s eyes grow bright with laughter and anticipation at the suggestion; he knew she would be only too glad to manhandle him after the way he’s treated her in the past. But it wasn’t that which forced him to comply. It was that he wanted to be by Nick, to protect, guard and soothe him until they were home.

 

“Fine, but do not think I will let you get away with your insolent behavior,” he warned.

 

“Insolent?” she scoffed as he slowly climbed into the SUV. “You haven’t met many doctors have you my king?”

 

Sean’s head snapped to face her. The use of his title wasn’t unwelcome but the sarcastic and almost casual tone in which it was said was.

 

Aubrey held up her hands in a calming and surrendering manner, “I meant no disrespect by the tone,” she cooed softly but her eyes grew hard. “You are my king and I accept that. But you must accept that when it comes to matters of health, _I_ am the royalty, not you. You may be the Protector of Portland but I am the one that keeps you healthy and it is on my word when Mr. Burkhardt is able to return to his duties.” Her eyes slid back to their usual chiding look, “or when he is able to perform physical activity of any kind.”

 

Again, Sean was dumfounded but he hid it behind a calm and calculating façade. He knew that she was right of course but he wasn’t about to show defeat in public.

 

“We will speak when we get to my house,” he stated in warning.

 

It seemed to be good enough for Aubrey. She nodded her head before closing the door.

 

He rolled the window down and looked over at Adalind who stood off to the side, waiting for his instructions.

 

“Clean everything. I don’t want any of this getting back to Nick or me.”

 

Adalind nodded just as the vehicle hummed to life. She opened her mouth as though to say something then shut it again but Sean knew that she was concerned about him and therefore what she was trying to say.

 

“I’ll call you if I need anything,” he promised soothingly.

 

“Very well,” she answered then strode away.

 

Taking that as his cue, Sean rolled the window back up and looked to the driver’s seat where Aubrey was half turned and watching him.

 

“Go,” he commanded and just like that the vehicle started moving. Sean didn’t even turn around to watch as the cottage, and the nightmare it represented, faded into the distance.

 

**TBC**


	4. Watching Over Nick

**Part IV – Watching Over Nick**

Aubrey sat beside her patient’s bedside, watching him intently for signs of pain or consciousness. The ride to Renard’s place had been swift; the man himself had only remained awake long enough to tell her where to take them before he gave into exhaustion. She’d allowed a private smile to cross her face as she’d peered into the backseat to spy on the two men. The King had his left arm stretched out just enough to place a hand onto the Grimm, who had remained tightly secured and unconscious throughout the entire trip; his touch was light but she could feel the possessiveness coming from him.

 

Though the pairing was an unusual one to say the least, Aubrey was glad that her protector and friend had found someone that not only made him happy but matched him in every single aspect. The Grimm may not seem very dominant or powerful but Aubrey, and every Wesen he came up against knew differently. Beneath his friendly and caring exterior was a man who could kill you if he saw the need for it. Granted, it was rare for this particular Grimm to actually deem it necessary to kill, something that was both a weakness and a strength, but the mere idea of it was enough to keep most Wesen off his back and those that didn’t see the need usually ended up in jail or dinner for one of the Hexenbiests. Nick Burkhardt helped balance the king in ways no one else ever could and for that, Aubrey was grateful.

 

As soon as they’d gotten into the apartment, Renard and Aubrey had placed Nick onto the bed and slid him off the backboard so that Aubrey could finish her examination. There were still things she couldn’t do, such as get X-rays of the broken fingers and the potentially broken hand and ankle, so after much arguing with Renard, she called in an associate who had a portable X-ray machine in their car.

 

While her associate took the X-rays, Aubrey attended to the king’s shoulder; it was healing already but it still required a few stitches and rest. Getting Renard to allow her to put the stitches in, instead of letting him watch her associate like a hawk, had been a challenge but Aubrey’s stubbornness and her reminder of her warning while at the cottage made him yield. Her reminder, however, had also served to remind him that he wanted to have a talk with her about challenging his authority. The talk hadn’t been what she had expected; he’d admitted that she was right, that he had to defer to her, but he requested that next time she wait until they were in private before she challenged him because the next time, he wouldn’t be so calm about it.

 

After the talk, the tension that had been between them since they’d left the cottage had disappeared, leaving only a comfortable and friendly silence. Once she was finished with his shoulder, she coaxed him into lying on the couch and getting some rest while she attended to Nick. Renard had of course argued firmly against it but Aubrey wasn’t having any of his excuses. She’d told him that he couldn’t do anything more for the Grimm tonight so he might as well rest so that she could. Unable to argue with her logic and no longer able to deny his body’s demand for sleep, Renard had settled onto the couch with a couple of spare pillows supporting his head and cushioning his shoulder.

 

With the help of the films, Aubrey was able to correctly set his fingers back in place and was able to comfortably diagnose his hand and ankle injury. She’d also stitched the deepest slash and wrapped his ribs. The lighter slash hadn’t needed much attention other than antibiotic ointment and bandaging. Now Nick was lying supported by several pillows with a couple more under his right ankle, an IV inserted into his left arm supplying him with fluids and a catheter inserted until he was more mobile. Now all Aubrey could do was wait.

 

Honey brown eyes roamed over the half naked form of her patient, spotting and identifying each injury as they roamed. Disgust roiled through her gut at what the Reapers had done to the man. He had a concussion which would cause a headache for a few days, three broken and three more bruised and cracked ribs, over fifty stitches in his chest and stomach, four broken fingers and one broken thumb, all on the same hand, tissue damage to his hand and chipped scaphoid and capitate bones (somehow the scythe had managed to just miss both bones), a badly sprained ankle, and bruising to his entire body.

 

The injuries by themselves could be temporarily debilitating but when combined, needless to say that this particular Grimm wasn’t going to be going anywhere for a good three weeks. The stitching to his chest and stomach should heal pretty quickly but the scythe had cut deeply enough to resemble the first half of a major surgery; he would need weeks to recover and regain his strength back before he’d be allowed back to work. His fingers and hand would need some serious physical therapy as well as his ankle. Aubrey didn’t envy Renard the pleasure of dealing with an immobile and restricted Grimm.

 

As a breed, Grimms were generally a very active group; they hated to be injured because usually they were hurt so badly it would be a spell before they could move freely again. Though she didn’t personally know the detective she had to guess he was going to be a very grumpy patient.

 

“Any change?” a familiar voice quietly asked. Aubrey lifted her head up, turning her attention from her patient to her friend.

 

Sean Renard stood just inside the doorway in his usual suit and tie. The clothes were wrinkled from him sleeping in them, lending a disheveled appearance to the normally crisp man. Aubrey was pleased to see that his left arm still remained in the sling, not that she would have done anything if it hadn’t been since she wasn’t really up to an argument right now. The concern and caring in his eyes was also great to see; somehow it made him appear more human. She knew that Renard took great pains to appear something more than human, almost coming off as God-like, so him showing the opposite was welcome.  

 

“No,” she answered with a sigh. “Not that I would expect there to be. With the medication I have him on he should sleep soundly until tomorrow at least.”

 

Aubrey’s assuring smile faltered just a little when she saw something flash in the other man’s eyes. It was a mixture of anger and warning, as though he were warning her against drugging the Grimm but she wasn’t about to listen – the man would be in a great deal of pain for the first week; there was no way she was going to not give him relief for it.

 

“I see,” Renard answered evenly, though suspicion was still in his eyes. He turned his head to look down at his lover and Aubrey took the opportunity to step closer to him and place a gentle hand on his arm.

 

“He’ll be alright,” she began, speaking softly as though she were talking to a frightened animal. She knew he knew that, she’d already given him the list of injuries and prognosis, but it seemed like it needed to be stated again.

 

When he didn’t look at her, she continued, “I know that he’s vulnerable,” Renard’s head snapped to face her, green eyes growing dark orange in a silent threat, “but I won’t harm him. I am his doctor; it’s my job to get him healthy again. I’m not going to do anything that might jeopardize that including refuse pain relief.”

 

Sean now turned his entire body towards her, his posture defensive even with the injured arm. “I never asked you to.”

 

“Not outright, no,” Aubrey conceded with a friendly smile. “But I saw the anger in your eyes when I told you that I’d drugged him. I know you didn’t like it and I understand why. But he is safe here with you and me and he will be hurting. His body has gone through a lot of trauma and it needs the restful sleep to heal. He won’t get that without the help of modern medicine.”

 

The orange in Renard’s eyes faded back to his normal, hard green. He released a sigh that spoke volumes to her. He knew that she would defend Nick with her life if the need arose but he was tired, and more than likely in a bit of pain himself, and his protective side was out in full force, causing him to doubt her and everyone else.

 

Aubrey paused for a moment before she spoke again. “You should sleep,” she said, clearly stating the obvious. She nodded her head towards the king-size bed where Nick lay, “That bed is big enough for the two of you,”

 

“Won’t I hurt him?”

 

The innocence in the question almost made her giggle. To think that the all-powerful Regnant, the man who caused fear to strike in most beings’ hearts, was so afraid of causing his friend pain was almost beautiful to her. She had to refrain from pulling the man into a bear hug.

 

“Unfortunately, the best side for you to lie on is his right and since I know that your shoulder’s still hurting you, I know that you won’t be up to lying on top of it. So, the most you’ll be able to do is lay close to him, nothing more. Basically? No, you won’t hurt him.”

 

“You could have just said no, you know,” Renard pouted.

 

Aubrey giggled a little. “I suppose I could have. But, what’s the fun of that?” She waited for him to smile back at her before she patted his arm. “Go on, get some rest. I’ll be close if either of you need me.”

 

She walked out of the room, giving Renard the allusion of privacy while she waited for him to get settled. When she heard two sets of snores coming from the room, she walked back in, smiling when she noticed the stubborn idiot was lying partially supported on his stomach so that he could wrap an arm around the Grimm’s torso. She pulled up a comfy spot in an armchair and curled into it, lightly sleeping as she waited for one of her patients to wake.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

When Nick woke it was to sun shining brightly through the closest window. Too brightly according to his head which began to pound fiercely the moment his eyes opened. He groaned as a headache he didn’t even know existed cranked up a few hundred notches.

 

Where was he? This definitely wasn’t his room or his bed. Did he get drunk and crash at Monroe’s for the night? No, that wouldn’t explain the sun either. The only other place he knew of that had this much sun first thing in the morning was Sean’s, which was fine but it didn’t explain the headache. Normally he wouldn’t go over to Sean’s if he had been out drinking or anything so why was he here?

 

Through the haze of pain and something else Nick couldn’t identify, brief flashes of the previous day began appearing before his eyes. It made his head hurt worse but at least it meant that he remembered what had happened and why he was at Sean’s. Nick knew that Sean had a protective side to him and therefore it didn’t surprise him that the man had brought him to his house rather than Nick’s.

 

“It’s okay to open your eyes now. I’ve closed the blinds and pulled the curtains,” a soft female voice cooed. He felt cold hands grab his wrist and hold it, feeling his pulse before pulling away.

 

Hesitantly, Nick did as he was instructed and reopened his eyes. True to her word, the woman had indeed made it so the room was in darkness. He looked around the room, looking for a familiar face before focusing on the woman that sat to his left.

 

“Hello handsome,” she greeted warmly. Her smile faded and she shook her head so that her true form showed through. Nick’s eyes widened, his body too weak to give any other response, and she changed back. “I just wanted to let you know who I was right off the bat,” she said with a wink. “My name is Aubrey. I’m your doctor. Captain Renard called me in when he found you. If you have a problem with who or what I am, however, I am more than willing to find you a new caregiver, though I’m not sure Renard would be.”

 

Nick studied the woman for a few, shallow breaths. She seemed friendly enough and though she was a Hexenbiest, she wouldn’t be here if Sean believed her to be a danger. He closed his eyes, hoping to calm the migraine and take a deep breath. The breath ended up being shallower than he’d wanted but the immense pain that shot through his side when he tried to go deeper stopped him instantly.

 

“No, it’s fine,” he said in a strained breath.

 

“Well, if you change your mind, let me know,” she said with yet another smile. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Good, as long as I don’t move, breathe, or think.”

 

Aubrey gave a courteous laugh but he could tell that she didn’t mean it. There was a frown mixed with concern in her honey eyes. “Is the medicine wearing off?”

 

Nick gave a shrug before gasping at the unexpected pain with the action. He didn’t remember hurting his shoulders.

 

“You’re going to be very sore for a while,” Aubrey explained after seeing his reaction and confusion. “I’m assuming your muscles aren’t used to swinging a scythe around and into three people, let alone when you’re already weakened. That coupled with the damage done to your torso, it’s going to painful to shrug for a bit.” She bit her bottom lip in thought then said, “Now, I would love to give you some more pain medicine but since I know you’ll fall back asleep once I do, I need to perform some checks beforehand. Okay?”

 

“Do I get a choice?” Nick countered weakly.

 

She gave him a sympathetic smile, “Unfortunately, no.”

 

Not wanting to be rude, Nick just nodded his assent for her to continue with her tests. She checked his pupils and memory, causing agony to stab through his skull. He groaned but answered her questions, even asking a couple of his own.

 

“Where’s the Captain?” he asked though he suspected he already knew. She peeled the bandaging away from his chest to inspect the stitching for signs of infection. He ground his teeth as she gently pressed down on the tender flesh around the string.

 

“He had to go into the station,” she answered matter of factly. They both knew that Sean couldn’t take the day off because Nick was injured; it would be too suspicious. “I’m assuming no one knows about the two of you yet?”

 

“No, we thought it would be seen as a conflict of interest.” She placed the bandage back over the wound, not bothering to press down on the taped edges, and moved to grab her medical bag.

 

“It probably would be; whether it actually is or not is a different matter entirely,” she answered honestly but seemingly indifferently. She pulled out a jar of cream that smelled like lanolin mixed with rubbing alcohol and placed it on the bed. “There’s a little bit of inflammation around the stitches so I’m going to put some antibiotic ointment on top of it,” she explained patiently. “This means that I’ll need you to sit up for me for a bit while I unwrap your ribs; I’ll need to get to the entire wound to ensure it doesn’t become infected. Would it be alright if I called someone in to help?”

 

Knowing how weak he felt, Nick didn’t even bother asking why he needed help. Instead, he nodded, leaning his head back into the soft pillows behind him while he waited for the “help” to return. He figured it would probably be another Hexenbiest, something that Nick wasn’t overly crazy about, but he knew it didn’t really matter in the end. His mouth dropped open slightly when he saw a familiar, scraggly face enter the room.

 

“Hey Nick,” Monroe greeted with an uneasy smile, “I see you’ve gotten yourself beaten up again.”

 

Nick chuckled weakly at the attempted joke, pausing in pain before he retorted, “Yeah but this time you should see the other guys.”

 

Aubrey and Monroe moved over to the left side of the bed where Aubrey placed a tray with some supplies on the bedside table. She smiled at their gentle banter but never actually looked at the two of them as she began preparing pre-taped gauze bandages and gloves.

 

“Yeah, I heard about that. I got to say man, I’m a little impressed, and frightened but mostly impressed. I always knew you had it in you.” Monroe looked at Aubrey for instructions, his discomfort with the situation clear on his face. “So, what do you need me to do?”

 

Aubrey turned to face the pair of them, compassion in her eyes. “I’ll need you to sit behind him and hold him upright while I unwrap his side.”

 

“You don’t need me to lift him or anything?” Monroe asked, obviously unable to hide his surprise.

 

“No, I can do that. With the damage done from the scythe, he won’t have the muscle strength to hold himself up, so that’s what you’re here for.”

 

“You mean other than added protection,” Monroe added.

 

“Are you here as a guard dog?” Nick asked, unable to stop himself from teasing the Blutbad.

 

The glare Monroe threw him made Nick smile. “You may be injured but you won’t always be,” the Blutbad lightly threatened. The smile in his eyes diminished the threat somewhat which Nick suspected is the only thing that melted the glare Doctor Aubrey was giving him.

 

“Ready?” she asked, stopping them from saying any more.

 

Monroe sighed apprehensively. Nick felt for his friend. He understood that a sick or injured person was very appetizing to a half-starved-for-blood Blutbad and this particular Blutbad didn’t tend to trust himself in those situations. Add to the fact that it was a friend and a Grimm that was injured and the unease increased tenfold. Nick desperately wanted to tell Monroe that he didn’t have to help, that he could do it on his own but he knew it would be a lie and would make things infinitely harder on everyone involved.

 

Blood-red seeped into Monroe’s eyes as he stared down at the droplets of blood coming from the stitched wound on Nick’s stomach and chest but it faded as quickly as it had come and he answered, “Yeah, I think so.”

 

“Okay, I’m going to begin to raise you up,” Aubrey warned Nick in an exhale. He felt her cold hands on his skin, an oddly comforting feeling given that it seemed to soothe pain a bit. She looked over her shoulder at Monroe, telling him to wait until she had Nick upright before he sat down then she began to lift.

 

White-hot pain seared through his stomach, chest, and side, burrowing until it hit bone. Nick couldn’t stop neither the cry that escaped his lips as she began nor the slight trickle of tears that trickled through his tightly clenched eyes as she continued. Only when the back of his head came to lean on a soft flannel shirt and he was allowed to lean against a strong, warm body did he feel like he could try and breathe again.

 

He felt Monroe shift a bit as though to get comfortable. Nick let out a small gasp as his body was jostled in the process and he felt the Blutbad freeze. Nick could feel Monroe’s heartbeat through his back and where there was once a slow, steady rhythm a jive now seemed to play.

 

“It’s fine,” Nick assured his friend, understanding that the rapid heart rate was from worry and fear. And he meant it one hundred percent. None of this was Monroe’s fault; he had no reason to feel guilty.

 

“Alright, now you just lay there and let Mr. Monroe and I do the work.”

 

“That shouldn’t be hard,” Monroe scoffed, the snort vibrating briefly through the back of Nick’s shoulders. “That’s what he usually does.”

 

“Hey,” Nick objected, a little offended by the suggestion.

 

“From what I hear, Mr. Monroe, you tend to dive into helping Nick wholeheartedly and manage to get yourself into plenty of trouble in the process.” Aubrey paused in her unwrapping to give Nick a teasing smile then continued with her work.

 

“I’ll have you know that I have had to come to the rescue more than he has,” Monroe countered.

 

“What?” Nick argued for the sake of arguing. He knew that he owed Monroe more than Monroe could think of owing him but the light banter felt good and it helped to fill the silence so he kept going.

 

“Dude, you’re at like ten that you owe me.”

 

“Ten?!”

 

“Yeah, you have the kidnapped girl, information at six in the morning and interrupting my Pilates, guarding your aunt, sniffing out the queen bee, hanging out in a bar to watch that Ziegvolk-”

 

“Hey, you enjoyed that _and_ I covered your drinks,” Nick gasped as he felt cold gel touch his skin and he looked down to find that Aubrey had begun spreading the ointment over the stitches. She’d started at a spot just below the waistline of his pants and was slowly working her way up to his shoulder.

 

Monroe seemed to take no notice of the interruptions and continued with his list, “-talking to that Reinegen kid, helping you bring in that missing girl-”

 

“She was a young Blutdbad! Who else better to go than you? Plus, you volunteered to go with me; I was willing to go without you.”

 

“-killing the Siegbarste so he didn’t kill your partner, getting beaten up because of you-“

 

“Oh come on, I suggested I stop asking you for help so that that wouldn’t happen again, you can’t hold that one against me,” Nick argued loudly before shrinking back against Monroe with a grimace that the Blutbad couldn’t see. The loudness of his voice was enough to make his head rebel and give an especially hard pound. It made him wish his head would just fall off, at least that way it wouldn’t hurt.

 

“-helping you with the Geiers, need I go on?”

 

Aubrey cleared her throat, an amused smile on her face. “Gentleman,” she chided in a motherly fashion, “I’m not sure this is doing Mr. Burkhardt’s head any favors so why don’t we try to keep the noise down to little more than a whisper, okay?”

 

Nick felt Monroe try to bend over his shoulder so that he could look at Nick’s face but when it didn’t work, he merely sighed guiltily, “Sorry Nick.”

 

“It’s fine,” Nick said, repeating his words from earlier and throwing the doctor in front of him an exasperated glare. The woman cocked her head to the side then looked behind him at his friend then back at Nick. She gave him a nod saying she understood and would try not to make him feel guilty(er) again. He smiled at her, grateful that she understood what he was trying to say.

 

He grimaced as his heartbeat brought another throb of pain throughout his body and he saw Aubrey smile at him sympathetically.

 

“I’m almost done,” she soothed while making sure her every touch was as gentle as her voice. “I just need to replace the gauze and re-wrap your side then I can give you some relief and let you rest.”

 

“You mean he hasn’t had a new dose of medication?” Monroe inquired sounding surprised while Aubrey placed the gauze over the stitches and began wrapping Nick’s ribs.. “Dude!’

 

“It’s not a big deal,” Nick said, grimacing as he moved to try and make the re-wrapping process easier.

 

“Either way it doesn’t matter,” Aubrey said evenly, though her eyes conveyed her apology. “Mr. Monroe, you may get off the bed and lower him back down. I’m finished.”

 

The ruffle of his hair told Nick that Monroe had nodded then he was being moved again. The pain was the same as before but it felt muffled. Wrinkling his brows in confusion, he looked at Aubrey with a question of why in his eyes. She smiled and held up an empty syringe that had apparently held pain medication in it.

 

“I inserted it just before you two had finished arguing. It needed some time to circulate through your system which is why you didn’t feel the effects until now,” she explained as she carried the needle over to the tray. “Now, do you need anything before we go?”

 

Nick shook his head, unable to think of anything. His entire body felt as though it was floating and his head felt like he was drunk. There was a deep throbbing feeling coming from his ankle but his mind couldn’t seem to focus on it long enough to distinguish that it actually hurt.

 

Aubrey nodded. “I’ll bring some ice in for your ankle; it will help with the swelling and a cold cloth for your head which will help with the migraine,” she informed as she grabbed the tray. Nick yawned as she bustled and when she turned back around she had a soft smile on her face. “Get some rest. You should feel a bit better when you wake up again.”

 

“See you later, man,” Monroe said before retreating into the living room.

 

Nick lay in Sean’s bed simply allowing his mind to wander and his head to swim. He was grateful for all that Sean had done for him, even getting Monroe to come and stay with him while he was gone. But he hoped he’d feel well enough to talk to Sean when he woke up again because he and the Regnant definitely had things they needed to discuss.

 

**TBC**


	5. Excuses and Lies

**Part V – Excuses and Lies**

“Hey Captain, you got a minute?”

 

Sean briefly looked up from his computer, his blank stare turning into one of awareness before flitting back to blank. He’d been staring at his computer screen for God only knows how long, trying to talk his mind into focusing on his job and respond to the several emails that littered his inbox. But his mind seemed to have other ideas; every time he got even remotely close to working, it would turn its attention back to Nick at home in the bed, hurt and vulnerable. Each time Sean had had to remind himself that Nick was safe and was currently being guarded by a loyal and fierce Blutbad and a protective and potentially vicious Hexenbiest. It didn’t seem to help, however, as he still continued to blank out and try to connect to his injured mate several miles away,

 

Over the past few months the two men had slowly started trying to strengthen their bond. Originally it had hummed so dully that they had barely felt it but the closer they grew, the stronger it got. It was now to the point where the bond was now an angelic song in the background, strengthening in gusto to a crescendo whenever they tried to connect with one another.

 

When allowed, one or both of them could feel what the other was feeling, all they had to do was lightly knock on the mind of the other and be allowed admittance. There had been some times when the permission was denied but it was rare. Today there was a brief flash of pain, exhaustion and something that struck straight at Sean’s heart but he couldn’t identify before the door was swiftly slammed in his metaphorical face. He’d just been trying to determine what that last emotion was when Hank had knocked on his door.

 

“Yeah, come on in,” he granted, easing into the back of his office chair, still somewhat favoring his left shoulder. The joint felt much better compared to yesterday but it was still quite tender. He’d been trying to hide the discomfort as much as he could but it hadn’t been easy; eventually he decided it was best to hide in his office and do paperwork in order to avoid being caught.

 

Detective Hank Griffin walked into the office, closing the door behind him before leaning against one of the tables in the room. He crossed his arms over his chest, simply staring at Sean and not saying a word. It unnerved the Captain a bit but he kept a calm, neutral expression on his face.

 

“What can I help you with Hank?” he asked when he determined that the younger man wasn’t going to speak first.

 

“I was wondering if you’ve heard from Nick today.”

 

Sean eyed the detective suspiciously at this statement. There was something in the man’s voice and eyes that said he knew something that Sean didn’t and the Captain didn’t like the feeling one bit. He looked out one of the windows of his office while he tried to determine how to answer the question. Surprise briefly crossed his features when he found the morning sun now high in the sky. What time is?

 

“Why? Haven’t you?” Sean countered, figuring it was best to stay general rather than defensive.

 

“No,” Hank answered sounding a bit concerned as well as curious. “He usually calls me by now if he’s going to be late or not come in at all.”

 

Green eyes flickered ever so slightly from the black man’s face to the clock on the computer then back. It was almost three in the afternoon. No wonder Hank was getting worried.

 

Nick was a responsible type of guy; he always called several hours in advance if he wasn’t going to be able to come in, which had only happened three times in the entire three years he’d been there, and he always called to say that he was going to be late. Usually all of these calls went to Hank; the only times Sean had heard from the Grimm was when he wasn’t going to be able to show up at all and most of the time it was because he was horribly sick or injured. The last time Nick had called in he’d been in a car accident the night before and had broken his arm in three places to go along with a mild concussion and four broken ribs.

 

Just as Sean was about to say something, his phone rang.

 

“Hello,” he answered after throwing Hank a mildly apologetic look.

 

 _“It’s Nick,”_ Nick’s voice replied. It was tight and low and filled with pain but Sean kept his face neutral.

 

“Hank’s right here, I’m going to put you on speakerphone,” Sean informed, hoping his partner would get the hint that he had forgotten to tell everyone that he wouldn’t be in. He hit the speakerphone button then placed the receiver back on its cradle. “Go ahead Nick, we can both hear you.”

 

“Nick, you okay man?” Hank asked before Nick had had a chance to speak. When he’d heard who was on the phone, he’d come closer to the desk and was now leaning over it, staring at the phone like it was the face of his partner rather than a machine.

There was a breathy laugh on the other end that sounded both ragged and painful.

_“Not really but I will be,”_ Nick answered honestly. He took another shallow breath then let it out in the same ragged pattern as before. _“Hey, Captain, I’m sorry for not calling earlier,”_ he said, _“I was in an accident last night and have been pretty out of it.”_

_Nice cover,_ Sean thought while hiding a smirk. He allowed a small touch of the concern he felt to actually seep into his eyes as he shared a look with Hank.

 

“How badly are you injured,” Sean asked wanting to stay away from the topic of “the accident”. He already knew the answer to this question but while at the precinct, and in front of Hank more specifically, he had to act as though he were in the dark.

 

A pause followed his question, this time accompanied by a slight touch of wheezing and some slight panting.

 

Sean felt his heart jump into his throat. What was going on? Why wasn’t the man answering? His heart rate slowly started to climb in time with his panic.

 

“Nick, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Hank asked in a genuine and rare show of panic. Hank was known for his calm demeanor even in the face of danger. He wasn’t the type to over-worry or panic, but nothing gets to a man more than the sound of his friend possibly struggling to breathe.

 

 _“I’m fine,”_ Nick assured still wheezing a little. He panted for a few breaths then continued, _“Sorry to worry you Hank.”_ Another panting breath then, _“In answer to your question, Captain, it’s not too bad but they had to perform surgery to fix some internal bleeding and a bit of damage done to my shoulder.”_

Again, Sean mentally applauded Nick for coming up with a way to explain the scaring that would most definitely cover his chest without actually telling them what happened. He wondered if Aubrey was there telling Nick what to say since when Sean left this morning, the younger man was barely conscious enough to register pain.

 

“That doesn’t sound like “not too bad” to me,” Hank argued.

 

Nick chuckled at his partner’s concern. _“Trust me Hank, I’ll be fine. They’re going to release me in a few days but they’re guessing I won’t be able to come back for six weeks, possibly less depending on how well I’m recovering.”_

_And I’ll make sure that you recover as quickly as possible,_ Sean thought, vowing that he wouldn’t allow the Grimm to try and do anything that would set back his healing.

Hank furrowed his brows. “Is there something more that you’re not telling us?”

 

 _“Why would you ask that?”_ Nick countered breathily. Sean could hear weakness beginning to take hold of his lover’s voice and knew that the man was near the end of his energy.

 

“That just seems like a long time for recovery.” Hank’s eyes flew from the phone to Sean’s at a moment that the Captain hadn’t expected.

 

In that brief moment he knew that Hank could see all that he was feeling and right then Sean had been feeling worry, concern, love, and protective. The worry and concern could have easily been written off as him worrying about one of his men being down but the love and protectiveness couldn’t.

 

 _“Well there might be a few other factors,”_ Nick replied a little slyly.

 

“Such as?”

 

“I think we’ve kept Nick awake long enough, don’t you Hank?” Sean interrupted knowing that if Nick told Hank all of his injuries, there wasn’t an accident out there that would cover everything. “Nick, we’ll let you get some rest.”

 

 _“Sounds good sir,”_ Nick answered, his relief and exhaustion coming through loud and clear.

 

“Keep us updated,” Sean ordered though he knew that he would be.

 

 _“Will do,”_ Nick said then hung up before Hank could ask what hospital he was at.

 

When Sean looked back up at Hank, the man had a huge grin on his face. At a loss for what to say without sounding accusing or threatening Sean merely continued to stare, this time waiting for Hank to say something.

 

The smile on Hank’s face slowly started to fade, “Damn. I owe Wu fifty bucks.”

 

“Excuse me?” Sean retorted surprised. That was possibly the last thing he’d expected the detective to say.

 

The grin was back in full force at his surprise and Hank sat down. “Permission to speak freely?”

 

Though this wasn’t the military, Sean assumed this was Hank’s way of making sure that anything he said wouldn’t have repercussions for him later. Green eyes twitched in study but when he was unable to come up with an explanation he said, “Granted.”

 

“There’s a pool going around, betting on a) whether you and Nick were together; b) how long it would take you guys to get together, and c) how long it would take you guys to let us know. Judging from your look earlier, I’d say Wu won.”

 

Sean sat dumfounded, though his face didn’t show it. “How long have you all known?”

 

“Since it began,” Hank answered mildly.

 

“I see,” Sean replied without inflection. He hated himself for the question he was about to ask next but he needed to know. “And, no one has a problem with it?”

 

It wasn’t that he was worried about them having a problem with them being two men; Portland was known for being more accepting of others and their differences. No, it was the fact that Sean was Nick’s boss that he worried about.

 

“No, why would they?” Hank asked, sounding as though the idea were laughable.

 

“Why haven’t you said anything earlier?” Sean asked not wanting to answer Hank’s.

 

“We saw that you didn’t treat Nick any differently than the rest of us so we saw no need to bring into public knowledge; although I can’t speak for the small gossips of the station.”

 

Sean smiled, though it wasn’t for the reason Hank probably thought. He knew who the gossips of the station were and what they were and they knew him. They had been the first to know that something was going on because their Wesen senses had picked up on it. Sean had quickly made sure that they told no one or suffer the consequences so he wasn’t concerned about them.

 

There was a moment’s pause where there was nothing but silence in the office then Hank spoke again, this time with concern etched in his face. “How is Nick, really?”

 

Since the jig was essentially up, Sean saw no reason to pretend that he didn’t know all of Nick’s injuries and since that was all Hank seemed to be asking, he didn’t see a need to lie.

 

“As Nick said, he’s had surgery to repair damage done to his shoulder and some internal bleeding,” he began as Hank sat more upright in attention. “But, he may have forgotten to mention the stitches needed in his hip, some broken fingers, stitches in his hand, broken, bruised and cracked ribs, and a sprained ankle.”   
  
Hank closed his eyes as pity replaced the concern. “That must have been a bad accident. Why haven’t we heard about it?”

 

“You know the media, Hank. Unless there’s a tragedy attached, most accidents aren’t reported by the news,” Sean dismissed knowing that he was at least right in that.

 

“What hospital is he at? I want to go see him.”

 

This was where Sean hadn’t wanted the conversation to go. He wasn’t above allowing Hank to visit Nick at his home but with Nick’s injuries, Hank would be curious as to why Nick wasn’t actually at the hospital.

 

Smiling as politely as he could, Sean began to lie through his teeth. “The doctors don’t want any visitors for the first few days. They said that he needs to rest and reduce the possibility of infection or virus.” Okay, so it wasn’t the best lie he’d ever come up with but it was the best he could do on short notice. “Why don’t you wait until he’s been released, then you can stop by. He’ll be more awake then; right now all he’s doing is sleeping.”

 

“He’s staying at your place when he comes home, I’m assuming?” Hank inquired but Sean didn’t really hear it.

 

Inside his mind, the Captain heard, more like felt, a flash of “we need to talk” come from Nick. Suddenly, Sean was able to get a lock on that last unknown emotion he’d felt earlier. Betrayal. It was mixed with pain so it had been hard for him to identify but it was there. Nick was hurt because Sean hadn’t trusted him enough to reveal his true self; he was hurt (both physically and emotionally) because it had taken being kidnapped and tortured for him to discover who Sean really was and it hadn’t even come from Sean himself.

 

Shame swept through Sean like the tide, strong and quick. He’d thought about telling Nick about the Regnant within but every time he’d thought about it, he’d stopped himself.

 

His main reason was that he felt it was plausibly deniability for Nick; as long as the Grimm had no idea who or what he was, there was less of a chance of something happening to him because of it. That idea had flown out the window the minute the Reapers had kidnapped him.

 

His second reason was that he honestly didn’t think Nick needed to know. As long as he kept control there was no need for the Grimm to find out. Of course that plan had been made extremely difficult when Sean had marked Nick as his. Eventually he’d been able to convince Nick that he’d accidentally bitten down too hard while he’d been nibbling on Nick’s neck. It had partially been the truth at least and this way Nick hadn’t questioned the injury or the scar it had left behind.  

 

Sean knew those were just excuses, though; something to tell himself so he wouldn’t feel weak. No, his true reason was that he was afraid.

 

He was afraid of how Nick would react to seeing his true form. Would he recoil in horror and never want to see Sean again? Would he distance himself first while he turned to the Blutbad for information and advice then eventually come to accept Sean? Would he just be accepting right off the bat? Or would he want to destroy him? The Regnant knew that Nick wouldn’t want to kill him but there were other ways to destroy a man who was in love.

 

The longer their relationship continued, the more afraid Sean became. Only this time it was a new kind of fear. As time went, he became afraid that Nick wouldn’t forgive him for hiding this secret from him. And now, that fear had just been redoubled.

 

Sean blinked and found Hank staring at him worriedly. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

 

“I asked if he will be staying with you when he’s released,” Hank stated slowly, his brown eyes watching Sean carefully for signs of anything that would tell him what was wrong.

 

Sean straightened his posture, radiating power and health. “Yes, he will. And when he’s ready, I’ll let you know when you can visit.”

 

He didn’t feel the need to tell Hank that by the time the opportunity came around, he and Nick would be staying at Nick’s place. Though Sean was open to the idea of having other people in his home, he treasured his privacy and therefore preferred to keep the number of people that knew about where he lived to a minimum.

 

“Thank you,” Hank said with gratitude in his eyes. He stood there for a minute just staring at Sean then he left, leaving the Captain to deflate on his own.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

When Sean returned home later that evening, it was to find the Blutbad in the kitchen making up a meal that, quite honestly, smelled fantastic. He didn’t bother questioning the act since he’d left the man and Aubrey in his home all day and they had more than likely made themselves meals while he was away.

 

“Where is Aubrey?” he asked of the Blutbad, smiling a bit when the man jumped ten feet in the air.

 

“Geez man, announce yourself before scaring a person like that!” he scolded. “She’s checking on Nick. After the phone call,” so Aubrey had been there telling Nick what to say, “Nick had been so exhausted that he’d fallen asleep almost immediately afterwards. He woke up briefly after that but was asleep soon after she gave him something for the pain.”

 

Sean was about to confirm in a question that Nick was still in a lot of pain but it seemed ridiculous. Of course the man was in pain; he’d been kidnapped, tortured and put through the wringer in a short amount of time. Usually that meant that the injuries weren’t so bad but in this instance the beings that had kidnapped him had liked pain and so had inflicted as much as they could in the time they had.

 

“Do you want something to eat?” the Blutbad asked drawing him from his thoughts.

 

Though it smelled amazing, the only thing Sean wanted to do was curl around Nick and lay there.

 

“No thank you,” he declined with a polite smile. “I think I’ll go check on Nick.”

 

“Right, mate injured, protective time,” the man dryly quipped seemingly to himself in understanding.

 

Sean didn’t see the point in responding so he didn’t. He pulled his coat off and placed it into the hall closet then strode into the bedroom. Nick was lying very much in the same position as when Sean had left this morning. He was still cushioned by as many pillows as Sean had been able to find and swathed in gauze, heavy bandages and a few splints, and he was still asleep. Sean had to admit that he was a bit disappointed that the man wasn’t awake but he knew it was for the best. Nick needed the rest in order to heal and the sooner Nick healed, the sooner Renard would calm down and actually be able to focus.

 

“How is he?” he asked as he took off his tie and shoes and unbuttoned his shirt. With Aubrey actually in the room, he didn’t feel comfortable doing more than that. His shoulder twinged when he moved it but other than a brief grimace he didn’t take notice of it.

 

“About the same,” Aubrey answered with a tired smile. He’d been in constant contact with her, inquiring about Nick’s health the entire time, throughout the day so she hadn’t needed to say more.

 

Sean nodded that he’d heard. “Thanks for the phone call.”

 

“You’re welcome. I figured you would forget to tell everyone that Nick was hurt.” She watched him for a few moments, of which Sean ignored, then said in a sigh, “Well, I think I’ll let you take over for the night and go and relieve Mr. Monroe. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

 

“Good night. And Aubrey? Thanks.”

 

Aubrey gave a nod of you’re welcome then gently closed the door behind her.

 

For five minutes, Sean just stood there and stared at Nick. Then his own weariness struck and he began to find it hard to keep his eyes open. Carefully he crawled into the bed and curled against Nick. He was mindful of rubbing against the injured and stitched right hip as well as the broken ribs when he coiled his arm around Nick’s stomach.

 

He fell asleep with the knowledge that he loved this man to the death, that he didn’t know what he’d do without him and the hope that when the time came to talk, he wouldn’t have to find out.

 

**TBC**


	6. A Prelude to a Talk

**Part VI – A Prelude to a Talk**

The next few days were passed like the first; Sean went to the precinct and Nick slept. The routine was monotonous to say the least but it couldn’t be helped. Nick needed the rest in order to heal and Sean couldn’t very well stay home and watch over him no matter how much he wished he could. Though it seemed that everyone at the precinct knew that Sean and Nick were together, the Captain still wasn’t willing to outwardly admit it.

 

The silence that always accompanied him when he came home was starting to grow on Sean’s patience. He knew that he and Nick needed to talk but it was so abundantly clear that not only was Nick not ready, he was also unable. This morning, the Grimm had actually been awake the entire time Sean had been there, all of an hour, but he was very loopy from the medication Aubrey was keeping him on. The Hexenbiest assured him that she would be lowering his dose to a weaker medication soon; today the plan was to move Nick back to his own two-story home after which, she would give him his final dose of hydrocodone.

 

While at work, Sean fielded concerned questions about Nick’s health and recovery, mainly from Hank and occasionally Wu, and made sure that the station ran as smoothly as the surface of a lake. Every once in a while he would receive questioning looks from the others in the police force but none ever managed to make it to his office to ask.

 

Hank was obviously distracted by the news and lack of communication from his partner so Sean made sure to keep him busy with backed up paperwork until he could allow the detective to visit his partner. He decided he would give Nick another couple of days to adjust and recover from the move before he unleashed his partner on him. Hank meant well but his previous concern had now had time to grow into an annoyed sort of over-protectiveness.

 

A knock on his door drew his attention from the list on his computer.

 

“Come in,” he granted majestically albeit distractedly.

 

None other than Hank Griffin entered the office and Sean had to withhold a sigh of impatience. It seemed that he’d been seeing much more of the detective since Nick had gotten injured and to own to the truth, he was getting a little tired of it.

 

He wanted to immediately say that it would still be a few days before he could go and see Nick but the confidence with which Hank was standing told him that this was about something else so he remained silent and waited.

 

“There’s been a homicide,” Hank stated holding up the file in his hands for added emphasis. “Did you want me to take Wu or have you found someone to assign as my temporary partner?”

 

Ah yes, Sean had forgotten that he hadn’t yet assigned Hank a new partner. He was still weeding through the names that had been thrown at him, waiting for the perfect fit. He knew the assignment would only be temporary but still, he usually sent most of the Wesen cases Hank and Nick’s way so he was hoping to find someone who could handle them without giving anything away. He knew another Grimm would be a perfect choice but given the way the Reapers had reacted to Nick still being alive, they wouldn’t tolerate another, less known, Grimm in the area.

 

Although the Reapers in Sean’s canton had taken things too far, he understood where their desire to thin the heard came from.

 

Even in the very beginning the Reapers had been a violent race. Much like the Germans of old, they reveled in death, destruction and pain. Whenever a war was being fought, the Reapers were there to spur things on, create tension and drink the blood on the battlefield. Back then no one noticed if a body went missing here or there as they were often left to decay among some races; those were the ones that kept the Reapers full and from killing not only one another but other Wesen.  

 

On the other side of the coin were the Grimms. They preferred to be thought of as peace keepers but they were in fact more like the police of current times. They dealt out vengeance when they thought it was needed, no matter what the circumstances. Marie Kessler was a lot like the Grimms of old; she considered herself judge, jury and executor and felt that every wrong doing done by a Wesen was a capital offence and should be fixed by killing the accused Wesen.

 

Protective though they were not of the others of their kind, the Reapers noticed what the Grimms were doing and so felt that someone should govern the governors. They knew that if the Grimms had their way, no Wesen would survive long enough to produce offspring and they very much wanted to see their line survive through the ages.

 

It was from here on that they became to be known as Reapers of the Grimms. Over time their name began to represent a figure for death, referred to as Grim Reaper, and they allowed it to be so, more than okay with that representation. Most weren’t aware that they not only existed but the reason they existed were because the Brothers Grimm had discovered who they truly were and had wrote about them.

 

Today, the feud between the Grimms and the Reapers was as old as the feud between the Blutbadden and Bauerschweins. One day some hoped to change that; some had already taken it upon themselves to start by weeding out the bad Grimms and trying to talk some sense into the Reapers but it was to no avail, yet.

 

“Captain?”

 

Sean looked up to find Hank still in his office, waiting rather impatiently for his reply. He leaned forward in his chair and returned to reading through applications.

 

“Go ahead and take Wu,” Sean answered at last.

 

Hank didn’t offer anything before he swiftly exited the office, grabbing Sgt Wu on his way out of the precinct. Sean waited until the detective had left then he breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. Hopefully this new case would keep Hank busy until Nick could receive visitors because the police Captain didn’t think he could take much more of his constant concerned presence.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

When Sean returned home it was to the same old silence but this time it was because there wasn’t anyone there. Relief he didn’t know he could feel swept through him as he realized the he finally had his apartment back to himself. He didn’t mind Nick being there but the near constant presence of the Blutbad with the ever present presence of Aubrey had begun to grate on his hospitality a little more each day.

 

After making a call to Aubrey to check on Nick, Sean wearily disrobed and climbed into the shower. He was grateful that he had the next couple of days off. Not only would he be able to sleep in, something he rarely did but felt it was justified after the last week, but it meant that he would have the entire weekend to spend with Nick, hopefully alone.

 

Hot water poured out of the showerhead, landing almost gently on top of his lightly tanned skin. Each drop felt more glorious than the last and for a moment he just stood and watched as the water slowly cascaded from his shoulders down his arms, off his hands and another set dripped over his chest down to his stomach, past his hips and eventually ending on the shower floor.

 

As he showered on autopilot, Sean thought of what the time alone with Nick would most likely mean. Talking; mostly from Sean himself.  Part of him just wanted to get the conversation over and done with but a part of him feared the conversation for the same reason he’d originally feared showing Nick his true form.

 

With resignation born of acceptance, Sean shut the shower off and stepped out to dry himself off. Steam rolled around in the bathroom, looking more like smoke than condensation from heat.

 

Dressing happened just as quickly as undressing and before long Sean had climbed into his bed, briefly frowning as he realized that Aubrey had cleaned them before they’d left so they no longer smelled like Nick. He turned off his alarm to make sure that he wouldn’t be woken early then fell asleep. Tomorrow would be a long day.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

Early morning October sun had just begun to brighten the heavy shadows of the room by the time Nick woke on the sixth day. He felt marginally better but his senses still felt sluggish and he still felt as though he could sleep the entire day away. His muscles, however, were beginning to cramp from all the time sitting still. Nick didn’t think his body was up for any movement but apparently his muscles didn’t know that.

 

A crow cawed outside his window, drawing his attention from how he felt to the world going on outside. Pumpkins lined the doorsteps and walkways of his neighbors’ houses. Some were real, some fake, and some were simple pumpkin decorated yard bags filled with fallen leaves. Autumn was such a beautiful time in Portland; the leaves of trees were not only falling but had slowly changed from their nutrient-rich green to colorful orange, burning red, and dull brown.

 

The trees swayed in what appeared to be a very strong wind; the tree outside Nick’s bedroom window’s branches tapped on the glass like a banished lover wanting admittance.

 

A knock on the door echoed through the house, drawing him from his calmly contemplative mood to the visitor. The bond hummed weakly in the back of his mind and Nick knew exactly who it was at the door.

 

 _Speaking of banished lovers,_ he thought wryly.

 

Sean would never be banished from his home but from his mind, yes. Nick refused to connect with Sean whenever he asked, which had been often lately, wanting to show how unhappy he was with the older man. He felt a little bit like a woman, behaving so emotionally, but he couldn’t help it. The fact of the matter was he was hurt by Sean’s mistrust of him. The man, the Captain, the Regnant had to know that he could trust Nick and yet, he hadn’t, ever.

 

Nick knew there had been plenty of opportunities for Sean to tell him what he truly was; having guessed that Sean was hiding something, Nick had been the one to create them. Yet, Sean had remained silent, pretending ignorance when he could. He’d admitted to knowing that Nick was a Grimm and had therefore purposely sent Wesen cases his and Hank’s way but when Nick had asked how he knew and who he really was, Sean had just smirked and changed the subject.

 

It drove Nick crazy that Sean expected Nick to be honest with him yet he was practically outright lying to his face. It was insulting and pretentious to say the least.

 

 _Maybe the Reapers weren’t far off in their description of him,_ Nick thought before instantly banishing the thought from his mind. There was no way he was ever going to agree with what the Reapers said or did.

 

“Nick?” Aubrey called softly in case he was asleep. She gave a light knock on the door then carefully opened it to peek inside. “Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

 

“Better,” Nick answered honestly. He moved to sit up more, wincing when his side and stitched shoulder grumbled at him.

 

“Better enough to get out of bed maybe?” Aubrey suggested with a twinkle in her eyes.

 

Nick chuckled. After spending so much time with the Hexenbiest, the Grimm was slowly beginning to understand the doctor’s teasing nature and he appreciated it. It almost felt like flirting but they both knew she wasn’t interested.

 

“Maybe not?”

 

“Hm, I think we can work with that. How about you just stay on the bed while I stretch some of your muscles?”

 

Honestly that idea made him uncomfortable but it felt rude saying it so he merely nodded, keeping his eyes downcast so that she couldn’t see his discomfort.

 

Aubrey wouldn’t be as good as she is if she didn’t pick up on the little things though. “If you want I can have Sean do it.”

 

“No, it’s okay. Did you want to do it now or later or,” Nick let the end of his sentence trail off since he didn’t know what other time frame to suggest and just stared at her waiting for her decision.

 

The doctor looked out the bedroom doorway to where, Nick assumed, Sean waited, probably impatiently at that, to be allowed to visit. She stayed absolutely still, her gaze never wavering from the fixed point she seemed to be focusing on, and simply stared. Where at first her gaze was sharp as an eagle’s it was now as blank as Nick’s when he’s on strong painkillers. She seemed to be allowing her mind to wander while she thought but Nick hadn’t the slightest clue as to where.

 

“Why don’t we do it later if you’re up for it,” she suggested after about five minutes of spacing out. “I think there’s someone who is quite eager to see you. Would you like some breakfast while you visit?”

 

Nick smiled in appreciation of her understanding. Though he hadn’t spoken a word to her about what was going on between Sean and himself, it seemed as if she could tell that he was angry with the Regnant and may not want to be in his presence long.

 

Still, Nick was never a man to run away from his problems and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now.

 

“You know, why don’t you take a break?” he suggested kindly but with several layers of hints. “I’m sure you have your own life that you miss and you don’t need to be stuck here twenty-four-seven any longer. Sean and I can handle things for the weekend.”

 

“Are you sure?” she asked with a mixture of excitement and concern in her tone. It was obvious that she didn’t like the idea of leaving her patient alone, even if there was going to be a very competent person with him but Nick could tell that the possibility of getting time to herself for a couple of days was very appealing as well.

 

“Yeah,” Nick guaranteed. “We’ll be fine. And if I’m not, I’m sure Sean will call you to come back.”

 

“I didn’t realize I was such a mother hen,” Sean’s calm voice interjected from the doorway.

 

Nick jumped at the sound of his lover’s voice, grimacing when his body reminded him not to do that. Though he knew Sean was in the house, he hadn’t expected him to come upstairs yet, let alone stand in the doorway and listen to their conversation. He turned to glare at his friend for not announcing himself earlier but only managed a partial one before the small quirk of a smile on the lips he loved to kiss and the humor in the beautiful green eyes wore him down and he smiled in return.

 

“Well,” Aubrey said, practically announcing her presence though the two men knew she was there. “I think I’m going to take your advice, Nick, and get out for a couple of days. Do you need me to get you anything while I’m out?”

 

“A new body would be great.”

 

Aubrey laughed the warm laugh he’d become accustomed to. “Sorry, I think they’re fresh out.”

 

“Then no, I’m good for now.”

 

She fidgeted for a bit, looking around the room, not only making sure that she had everything but that they had everything they needed as well. Nick smiled at her nervous behavior, appreciating the sentiment behind it more than he thought he would. He shared a small eye roll with Sean as she continued to bustle around then the two men chuckled. Aubrey quickly told Sean about Nick’s medication schedule and told him to make sure that not only did Nick sleep but eat as well. Only after receiving Sean’s vow under pain of medical leave (from Nick) that he would do as she had instructed did she leave.

 

The two men listened as the front door closed, each relaxing slightly when they realized that Aubrey had left.

 

“She’s not what I expected,” Nick commented offhandedly as Sean walked further into the room. He kept his gaze on the bedroom doorway but managed to keep Sean in his peripheral vision as he hesitated by the open side of the bed then sat down in the chair to Nick’s left.

 

“Not every Hexenbiest is like Adalind,” Sean replied, leaning into the chair in what would appear to be a relaxed position.

 

“And thank God for that,” Nick quipped meaning every word. He didn’t think he could handle it if every Wesen in the Hexenbiest race was like Adalind Schade. He had had a hard enough time not letting the woman get killed when he was forced to protect her, let alone protecting or governing an entire group of Adalinds.

 

Sean glared at him for his comment but he didn’t care. He knew that Adalind and Sean had a history. One-sided though he pretended it was, Nick knew that Sean cared about the blond and was very protective of her. If Nick had been a woman, he would more than likely have thought of Adalind as his competition but as it was, Nick was very confident in his relationship with Sean, or at least he had been up until six days ago, and he knew Adalind couldn’t touch him in that respect.

 

“Have you eaten?” Sean asked, looking around the room for signs that he had.

 

“Not yet,” Nick answered with a sigh, conveniently forgetting to mention that the tension between he and Sean had scared Aubrey off before she had gotten it for him. He actually wanted to go down and get his own meal but that just wasn’t plausible.

 

“I’ll go get us some breakfast then.”

 

As Sean stood up, Nick grabbed his wrist and his attention.

 

“Avoiding the issue isn’t going to make it go away,” he warned, knowing that Sean was stalling. Hell, he was tempted to stall himself and he was the one that demanded they talk.

 

“I know,” Sean answered with a loving smile. “But I did just promise Aubrey that I would make you eat and I would hate for her to find out that I did not keep my promise.”

 

 _Fair enough,_ Nick’s mind conceded though he refused to show it. Instead, he gave a nod and released his hold of Sean’s wrist, painfully leaning into the pillows behind him.

 

“Besides,” his friend continued as he walked out of the room, “I was only going to go downstairs.”

 

 _Of course he was,_ Nick’s mind grumbled in annoyance. Like Sean would even think to leave him alone like this, come on!

 

With a frustrated sigh, the Grimm allowed the pillows and headboard to support him. For once he was actually grateful for the sustenance coming his way; he and Sean were going to need it for the conversation they were going to have afterwards.

 

**TBC**


	7. The Talk

**Part VII – The Talk**

When Sean returned he was carrying a tray with two plates, two glasses of juice and two cups of steaming coffee. The scent coming from the plates smelled almost heavenly to Nick who felt as starved as he was beaten. He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent with closed eyes.

 

“Trying to apologize with food?” he queried with a half serious half teasing smile.

 

Sean smiled a half smile showing that, yes he indeed was and he found no humor in the small joke. He unfolded the tray legs and set it on the bed. Scrambled eggs, two slices of wheat toast and two slices of turkey bacon decorated the simple china on the tray. Nick’s stomach grumbled hungrily and uneasily at the smell of the food.

 

“What if I am?” the Captain, because to Nick he would always see Sean as his Captain rather than a Regnant, returned without looking at him.

 

Unable to find anything to say to that, Nick didn’t answer the question. Instead he chose to grab the napkin and attempt to eat. The first attempt to grab the napkin failed miserably; his arm refused to actually lift off the bed. Completely refusing to acknowledge his partner’s raised eyebrows of both concern and inquiry, he blew out a breath of annoyance and tried again. The second attempt went better than the first but only slightly; this time his forearm managed to make it to the tray before it fell limply onto the bed.

 

“Would you like some help?” Sean offered with a straight face.

 

Nick’s head turned to his left where the other man sat. The slowly brightening daylight glimmered in his eyes, giving them a shine that wasn’t often there. It occurred to Nick that that shouldn’t be happening but then his mind reminded him that the dresser hadn’t been moved since Juliette left and there was a mirror on top of it, reflecting the sunlight streaming in through the window behind Sean.

 

“Appears so,” Nick grudgingly admitted. Normally he would have added a hand wave but his arms apparently weren’t willingly working at the moment so he settled for a head nod in the direction of the tray.

 

Without further comment, Sean set his plate on the bedside table and gently sat down on the bed. His left hip rubbed against Nick’s as he sat, bringing forth their bond in a brief sharp spark in the back of their minds. They both flinched with how angry it felt; it was as though it were a sentient thing, a little kid that was mad at its parents and was letting them know it.

 

When Sean opened his eyes again, Nick could see a brilliant orange in his eyes that he had never seen before. It was such a beautiful match to Sean’s overall coloring that for a moment Nick just stared. He felt something stir in the other man, something that was spoiling for a fight before he felt a door insistently slam then there was nothing.

 

“Did you feel that,” the Grimm panted, referring to their bond’s reaction. His heart still raced from the spark thus making his breathing speed up as well to accommodate.

 

It had felt as though he’d reached out and had physically hit Sean. His body had done its best to recoil from the slight touch but it had also been fruitless since he was too weak to really move. Though he loved the feeling of Sean against him, no matter what form it was, right now he was worried that his friend would do what he always did and try to smooth things over and make the problem go away with a touch and a few comforting words. That was the absolute last thing Nick wanted at the moment and his mind had reacted with a brief shot of anger before it had even truly registered the touch as something that needed to happen so that he could eat.

 

“Your anger must be manifesting through our bond,” was all Sean said though the slowly changing color in his eyes told Nick so much more. The magnificent orange in the normally green eyes was gradually dimming to a more dull bronze, reflecting the sadness the Captain truly felt at the realization and the reaction his touch had created.

 

Feeling that just a bit of trust was being thrown his way, Nick could only attempt to reach out a hand to grab Sean’s and say, “Sorry.”

 

Sean’s back straightened as though Nick had done something wrong; or perhaps it was just the other man’s pride making an appearance, it was hard to tell. Either way, Sean immediately plastered on a fake smile, even managing to add a bit of brightness to his eyes, before picking up Nick’s fork and scooping some eggs onto it.

 

The eggs were heaven in Nick’s mouth, feeling more like fluffy yellow clouds of spice rather than something that came from a chicken, making him close his eyes in pleasure for the briefest of moments.

 

“You never told me you could cook,” he gently chided with an appeased smile.

 

“I can do many things Nick,” Sean replied, this time adding a bit of bacon before putting the fork back into Nick’s mouth. “You just needed to ask.”

 

 _Oh, you wanna go there?_ Nick’s mind bristled at the challenge. With his mouth full of food, Nick couldn’t very well verbally argue the point but the glare he threw at his friend conveyed his anger at the comment. Again the bond sparked, responding to Nick’s anger, and lashed out at Sean. The older man winced and Nick felt a jolt of pain and guilt ripple through his heart. Still, he was stubborn and he wasn’t about to apologize.

 

Once he finished swallowing the humongous bite, Nick opened his mouth to reply but soon found himself swallowing down some orange juice. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough to keep the Grimm busy for a few more seconds.

 

When Sean went to shove another forkful into Nick’s mouth, he swiftly shook his head, giving his own wince of pain as his concussion reminded him it wasn’t gone yet.

 

“No more,” he said at Sean’s inquisitive look.

 

The older man frowned as he placed the fork back onto the plate. “Are you no longer hungry?” he asked, obviously unhappy with how little Nick had eaten.

 

“For now,” Nick answered knowing he needed to take real food slowly. Given that he’d just spent the last week on a liquid diet, he’d been heavily instructed by Aubrey to gradually introduce actual food back into his system. He actually highly doubted she would have approved of his current breakfast but he wasn’t about to mention that; it had tasted wonderful.

 

Sean nodded that he’d heard and set the tray aside, placing it on the empty side of the bed for later. He hesitated for a moment, clearly wanting to remain where he was, then moved back to his place in the chair beside the bed. Nick didn’t know if the move was for his benefit or for Sean’s but either way he was grateful for it.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nick asked after a good five minutes’ silence.

 

Sean cocked his head to the right as though he were contemplating the question then he merely replied, ‘You never asked.”

 

While it was true that Nick had never outright asked if Sean was a Wesen, they both knew that the answer was a cheap shot and Nick felt his anger flare again.

 

“Oh don’t give me that crap!” he argued. “You and I both know that I have given you plenty of opportunities and vaguely but directly asked and you _never_ answered the question.”

 

Nick sat up more, trying to sit away from the pillows so he could be more involved in the conversation but stopped with a grimace. His mouth opened in a silent cry of pain as his ribs moved and the badly bruised muscles in his side stretched. If he hadn’t been in so much pain already, he would have slammed his hand down onto something just to get his frustration out.

 

Nick had never been good at emotional arguments. While he and Juliette had never really argued, well not about something like this, they did have a few serious talks and all of them had been difficult for Nick to do. Aunt Marie had been like a second mother to Nick when he was growing up but, wonderful though she may have been, she hadn’t exactly been the kind of woman that had openly discussed her feelings. Now Nick understood why but at the time he had thought it just wasn’t what people did.

 

This argument, however, was more than just an emotional argument. It was an emotion argument that _he_ had demanded happen.

 

Sean’s eyebrows rose once more, this time in surprise at Nick’s outburst before quickly lowering into a frown of concern at Nick’s pain. He silently waited for Nick to get himself back under control but the Grimm could tell it took a bit of training to do. The muscles in Sean’s arms twitched as though begging to be allowed to contract so they could do something to help Nick but their master remained still, filled with a determination so strong Nick could hear the animal inside his friend roaring at the cage it had been put in.

 

“It’s true, I’ve often eluded you but the fact remains that you still could have directly asked,” Sean argued, too stubborn to let go of the fact. “Neither one of us is in a relationship with a woman, Nick, so why must we resort to dropping hints when we want something?”

 

Admittedly, Nick didn’t have an answer to that. Then his keen mind went into overdrive and he found himself replying, “Because I wanted you to tell me without having to ask.”

 

“Then why did you not wait for that time to come?”

 

“Because we have been in this relationship for over a year and I was beginning to wonder if you would _ever_ tell me which brings me back to my original question of why didn’t you tell me? Why did it take my being kidnapped and partially tortured for you to reveal your true self to me?”

 

The volume in Nick’s voice steadily grew the longer he talked and by the end of the statement he found himself trying not to yell. He felt so surrounded by anger now, so much so that he thought he’d drown in it. The bond once again reacted to his anger and this time Sean put a hand to his head and turned it just as a grimace creased his face.

 

Nick felt Sean’s control snap for a second. He felt the Regnant’s anger at being mentally attacked in such a way and he felt its anger at not being allowed to strike back. It was in that second that he felt the bond lash out at him, making him gasp in pain. It felt like fangs, long and sharp, had been driven through his skull and into his brain in a bite.

 

The contact with the angry beast inside Sean had been brief but it had been enough to show Nick that he never wanted to come into contact with that thing when it was mad at him. He heard the Regnant roar again but it was in defiance and fury as Sean regained his control and locked it in a cage far beyond where Nick could mentally see.

 

The two men sat in silence, each panting through their emotions and pain. Neither one broke eye contact with the other, though; they both stared at one another, silently inviting them to start again.

 

In the end, it was Sean who broke the contact and looked to his left down at the floor. His voice was barely audible as he admitted, “I was afraid.”

 

“Afraid? Afraid of what?” Nick asked perplexed by the confession. Sean Renard was one of _the_ bravest men Nick knew. Nothing scared him, nothing. Yet here he was saying that he was scared to tell Nick about his true self? No, there was more to it than that.

 

“I was afraid of you,” Sean admitted, effectively stopping Nick’s heart with the ton of bricks he’d just piled on top of it, crushing it. Seeing what must have been a devastated look on Nick’s face, Sean hastily added, “Of how you’d react.”

 

“What did you think I was going to do?” Nick asked breathlessly. “Kill you?”

 

Sean’s green eyes focused sharply on him. There was anger in them but Nick wasn’t sure why the other man was angry or _who_ he was angry at.

 

“No,” he finally answered, lifting a few bricks off Nick’s heart. “I know you’d never kill a Wesen just because you could. Although, I did have your aunt killed so that might have given you a reason.”

 

“You what?” Nick asked coldly, his anger coming up through the heartache. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered Francois saying that Sean had had Nick’s aunt killed but he hadn’t really believed it until now.

 

Sean once again straightened in his chair, this time in pure strength and defiance. The strength, Nick knew, came from his confidence in his decision; he believed himself not only right but justified in his action and therefore felt he had no need to apologize. It was something Nick had seen several times while he’d investigated the death of a violent Wesen. The defiance, Nick supposed, was only there to provide support for his justification.

 

“I was the one who had sent Adalind to kill your aunt and I arranged for the others as well,” the older man announced coolly. The casual tone of his voice made Nick forget all about the heartache he felt as anger once again replaced it all.

 

“Why?” Nick asked, his voice shaking with rage. “She wasn’t a threat to you.”

 

“She was a threat to everyone under my protection, including you,” Sean snapped. The green in his eyes melted as though acid had been thrown on them, giving way to a deep red. Nick only knew one other person whose eyes turned red like that but, right now, he was willing to be the red in Sean’s eyes was darker and more vicious than Monroe’s could ever be.

 

“You aunt killed without thought or care. She viewed all Wesen as dangerous. I’m not sure if it was how she’d been raised or if her solitary life as a Grimm had calcified her heart but either it way it was no matter to me.” Sean took a breath to control his anger but the red never dimmed in his eyes. “You know exactly how many Wesen are in Portland, Nick. She would have hunted every singe one of them down until the only one left was me. As Protector of Portland, I couldn’t allow that, no matter how much pain I knew it would cause you. She didn’t have your open mind, Nick. She didn’t stop to think about other options. She just killed.”

 

Nick’s jaw hurt from how hard he was grinding his teeth together. Much as he wanted to argue, somewhere deep down, he knew that Sean was right. He loved his aunt, as much as anyone could love a parent, but the last time she’d visited, Nick had felt there was something different about her. It wasn’t just the cancer she was dying from; it was a tension that seemed to surround her, always putting him on edge whenever he was near. He wanted to deny that she had changed so drastically since he’d been gone (God how he wanted it to be otherwise!) but, realistically, rationally, he knew he couldn’t.

 

“And how was she a danger to me?” Nick countered. His fury from before had faded but there was still enough residual anger left to lend an edge to his gravelly voice.

 

“Do you know why Leroux kidnapped you?” Sean asked, completely throwing Nick off course.

 

The Grimm had to admit, he had _no_ idea why he’d been kidnapped. No doubt that was something he would have to explore with the department psychologist before he returned to work (yes, he knew Sean would make him attend a session or two before he was allowed back) but, honestly, he’d just taken it as something that happened when you were a Grimm who was dating the most powerful man in Portland, as far as Wesens were concerned at least. It was truly a sad statement on his life that he just accepted things like that happening but the fact of the matter was that they did, a lot in fact.

 

“No,” Nick admitted with a sigh.

 

Sean nodded. “Ever since you arrived under my command, the Reapers have been demanding that I kill you.”

 

That threw Nick for a loop! His mouth dropped open so wide he thought he’d detached his jaw. Why would the Reapers be so adamant about his death? Yes, he knew he was a Grimm and that was there job but come on! He wasn’t like all the other Grimms out there, surely they should take that into consideration. Shouldn’t they?

 

“At the time I wasn’t even sure that you were in fact a Grimm but when your aunt came to visit, I felt the change in you. They insisted that you needed to die, citing that you are your aunt’s nephew and would turn out exactly like her. At the time I had no doubt that they were right; it was why I wasn’t too concerned when Adalind had gotten you instead of Marie.”

 

Nick felt a jolt of pain at the last admission but he hid it well, knowing there was more to the story.

 

“When you tried to stop the Jagerbars from completing their ritual, however, I knew that you were in fact nothing like your aunt. She would have killed all of them just for what they were. But you tried to stop them all from hurting not only the two humans but from doing something that would hurt them in completely different ways. You had fought them only because they had attacked first then you sent a warning shot into the air. That wasn’t the usual style of a Grimm. That was the style of a different breed altogether; one that hadn’t yet been seen. From then on I tried to change the Reapers’ minds, tried to make them see that, unlike your ancestors, you weren’t a threat to them. But Leroux was determined and blinded by teachings of the past and he would not listen.”

 

Silence descended upon the two men, cloaking the room in it and lending a gloomy presence to the already stormy day. Nick could feel Sean’s eyes on him, studying him and waiting for his response.

 

“So,” Nick began, slowly puzzling through the long tale, “you believed that if I had spent more time with my aunt, she would have, what, turned me into her?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The reasoning was bogus to Nick to say the least. He knew that wouldn’t have happened because while she once had influenced how he thought and how he’d looked at the world, Nick was now a grown man and was more than capable of thinking for himself. No one would be able to change that except time and time was fickle enough not to worry about it.

 

But, then again, Sean hadn’t known Nick that long when this all had happened. He wouldn’t have known just how strong Nick’s will was because he hadn’t bothered trying to figure it out. He was pretentious enough to believe himself right in everything, including his assumptions.

 

It wasn’t enough to excuse what he’d done but Nick had to admit that he could see the logic in it all. It hurt, that was for sure, but it was nothing compared to what he’d felt when all this started.

 

Unable to express what all he was feeling, Nick settled for nodding that he understood but he couldn’t bring himself to look into Sean’s eyes. He was afraid the tears that lay just behind his eyelids would begin to poor down like rain and that wasn’t something he wanted to happen.

 

“That doesn’t explain why, if you knew I wouldn’t kill you, what you thought I would do?”

 

“Leave.”

 

That one word was enough to stop Nick’s heart for a heartbeat or two. He felt the bond whine and whimper at the thought of being torn apart by their separation and Nick knew that if either one attempted to do that, his soul would be ripped apart as well. Tears began to well in his eyes, though whether it was from keeping them open for so long or from the utter desolation he felt at the very idea of leaving Sean he didn’t know. One dared to fall down his cheek, making Nick swipe angrily at it; this wasn’t the time for tears.

 

“Is that how little you think of me?” he asked though it was far from what he’d actually meant to say. What he wanted to know was why Sean thought that showing Nick exactly how magnificent and beautiful he really was would make Nick leave. But that had refused to come out of his mouth.

 

“Quite the opposite actually,” Sean answered with a sardonic smile. “As I’m sure you know, I think a great deal of you. Too much, one could argue, and believe me, many have. I didn’t feel it was a risk I could take because losing you would destroy me completely.”

 

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder and torso and the tears streaming down his face, Nick reached out and grabbed Sean’s closest hand in as tight a grip as he could manage.

 

“I would never do that to you,” he promised. He wanted to go on about how it would destroy him to leave as well but this moment already felt too emotional for him so he abstained.

 

His grip began to lose its strength quickly so he withdrew it and leaned against the bed, feeling exhausted by the conversation as a whole. Beside him he heard Sean huff out a brief laugh.

 

“Rest Nick,” he gently commanded and Nick felt the back of his hand trail lightly down the side of his face. “We’ll talk more later.”

 

“You bet we will,” Nick promised, his eyes already closing of their own accord. A wry smile curved itself onto his face as he promised, “I have a lot of questions to ask.”

 

Again, he heard Sean chuckle. “I’m sure you do.”

 

Nick fell asleep before his brain could even come up with a comment to that. Oh, he definitely had some more inquiries to make of Sean, mostly pertaining to what the hell a Regnant was and what its abilities were. But those would be questions for another day. For now, he needed to rest.

 

**TBC**


	8. Epilogue

**Part VIII – Epilogue**

Nick limped into the station with a bright smile on his face. After three months of not being allowed to do more than walk to and from him bedroom while he healed, the Grimm was finally allowed to go back to work. It was only desk duty for the moment, his ankle, hand, and shoulder still needed more rehabilitation before they’d release him fully, but it was enough for him.

 

The healing had been slow at first, giving Sean and him plenty of time to talk. Nick had asked as many questions as he could think of while still trying to give his friend his privacy but it had been hard. He was so curious to know everything he could; who all knew about the Regnant within his friend, what his abilities were and how fast he healed were just a few. He begged Sean to transform so he could look upon his partner’s Wesen form once again, this time taking in just how beautiful and powerful it was. Nick had asked whether the bite mark on his shoulder came from Sean or the Regnant and he smirked in satisfaction when the older man blushed as he admitted that it had been the Regnant who had marked him.

 

Their bond hummed pleasantly in the back of their minds, satisfied that all was right with them once again. Nick still hadn’t quite forgiven Sean for order the hit on his aunt but he didn’t hold a grudge about it either. He knew it would just take time for that wound to heal and he was willing to give it all it needed.

 

A blush crept into his face as every officer he passed came up to him, welcoming him back and giving him friendly pats on the back. It was obvious they were happy to see him but still he felt like it was too much; it was as though he’d been injured in the line of duty or anything.

 

When he entered his part of the station, Nick let out a breath of relief. It seemed that everyone was gone except Hank and Sean. As he walked, Nick felt Sean’s eyes follow him, watching closely for signs that he shouldn’t be back yet.

 

To say that Sean disagreed with Aubrey’s decision to allow him to come back would have been an understatement. The man had thrown a fit worthy of royalty, going so far as to threaten Aubrey with banishment if she didn’t change her mind but still the doctor was not swayed. Nick had appreciated his concern, really he had but he had been so excited when Aubrey had stood her ground that he actually cheered and gave a small dance; one that had cost him to do.

 

Hank gave him a broad smile as he sat down at his desk.

 

“So, the Captain finally let you come back I see,” he commented wryly though his eyes were positively beaming.

 

A couple days after Sean and Nick had talked, Hank had shown up for a visit. At first it had been great to see his friend but after being questioned for the fortieth time whether or not he should be moving, Nick had begun to grow annoyed. It wasn’t like he was trying to walk already, he was just doing some stretching as his body allowed and shifting to get comfortable on the bed.

 

Sean had laughed at Nick’s exasperation, telling him that now Nick knew how he felt while at work. Every time Hank was around, Nick wasn’t allowed to do _anything._ If Nick needed something, even if it was from the bedside table, Hank got it. If Nick gave the smallest wince of pain, Hank was on him about pain medication or other forms of relief. Nick had never known just how much of a mother hen had resided in his work partner and friend until he’d gotten injured and it was enough to make him hope and pray that this was the last time he was ever hurt this badly, for his sanity’s sake.

 

“Yeah,” Nick replied as he slowly settled into his work chair. His body had healed quite well but it was still stiff, making moving quickly hard to do. “If possible, I think he was less thrilled about it than you were.”

 

Oh yes, Hank had argued with Aubrey about letting him come back. He’d relented quicker than Sean had but not before threatening to handcuff Nick to his bed if he even tried to interfere in cases.

 

The left side of Hank’s face quirked upwards in a half smile. “Can you blame him?”

 

Nick opened his mouth to say that yes, he could but he quickly shut it. He knew that if their roles had been reversed, Nick would be acting the exact same way, maybe even worse. He smiled at the realization, “No, I guess not.”

 

He opened his email inbox and his jaw dropped at just how many emails he had, inquiring after his health and asking when he was returning. He’d been allowed to check his email quite regularly but three weeks ago when he’d been discovered trying to help out with a case via email, Hank had taken the computer away and placed it on the bookcase in the living room. Sean had flat out refused to get it for him, fully supporting Hank’s reaction; he even moved the computer to a place that Nick had yet to find.

 

“I guess I was missed, huh?” Nick commented absently as he continued to scroll through the messages.

 

“More than you know brother,” Hank answered with so serious a face, Nick thought that one of his exes had walked through the door.

 

Nick blushed at the sheer amount of raw emotion in his friend’s chocolate brown eyes and nodded his thanks for the sincerity and sentiment. “Well, it looks like you had a handle on things while I was gone. You and your new partner.”

 

“Don’t get me started on that guy,” Hank quipped immediately, making a face that conveyed his dislike for the man. “He was weirder than you.”

 

“I’m weird?” Nick pouted not bothered in the slightest by the comment.

 

Hank laughed at this jibe. On his hip, his phone began to ring, drawing his attention to it, rather than Nick.

 

“Griffin.” There was a pause as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. “Uh-huh. Yeah, alright, where? Yeah, I know where that is. I’ll be there in ten.”

 

“We got a case?” Nick asked hopefully, beginning to rise from his seat out of instinct.

 

“No, _I_ got a case. You have paperwork.” Hank laughed as the roles from so long ago were now reversed.

 

“Hank, come on!” Nick whined as his partner exited. He remembered the angry look Hank had given him as he and the Captain had left to investigate the car stolen by the Siegbarste. This situation wasn’t exactly the same but the irony wasn’t lost on him either.

 

“Payback’s a bitch huh?” Hank called back.

 

“Hank!”

 

The laughter that followed Hank out of the precinct echoed pleasantly around the station. Yep, it was good to be back; even if it was just desk duty.

 

_~Fin~_


End file.
